


Notes on the co-existence of darkness and fire

by copperbrass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Creature Fic, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts, Potions, Slow Burn, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbrass/pseuds/copperbrass
Summary: Twenty years after the final battle, Millicent Bulstrode finds herself back in a hostile British wizarding world with no job, no real friends and only a rather problematic relative to rely on.Meanwhile, Charlie's back home for his annual winter vacation but rest and relaxation are hardly on the menu. Instead, he finds himself embroiled in his younger brothers' shop and the antics of their newly-hired potion-brewer.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Millicent Bulstrode/Charlie Weasley
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter is not owned by me.

Millicent slowly opened the heavy courtroom doors, her heart in her throat. The last time she had been in courtroom 4 was right after the war - during the trials she had pled her opposition to Voldemort, insisted she had fought against the death eaters in the final battle and bared her left forearm to show no mark. Words may matter, but her's didn't and the jury was not moved. It was only the hesitant, unsure testimony of a Weasley brother who 'thought he saw a tall Slytherin girl fire a hex at Bellatrix Lestrange' that stopped her from going to Azkaban. The countless monitoring charms and reporting requirements made it clear, though, that she wasn't to be trusted. She had fled as soon as possible - first Paris, then Berlin, making her way through all the European magical establishments, until the places and the grants ran out. Returning to England was unfortunate but necessary. 

Finding a job was equally necessary - down to her last galleon, the potion master certification was her best shot for getting back on her feet. With it, she could sell her own potions in Britain and set herself up as an independent proprietor. Taking a moment to straighten her spine, she walked into the gloomy room - as a Slytherin she would give nothing of her emotions away.

In the middle of the courtroom, three cauldrons and workbenches had been set up - two were already occupied and Millicent quickly slid behind the third. At the judge's bench, two Potion Masters and the requisite Ministry of Magic employee were standing and sharing good-natured words. She recognized Mr Toots, the gardening radio show host and potioneer - they must have been desperate if he was a judge - was the Hufflepuff even a potion master? Stopping the sneer from forming on her face, she looked to his side - was that? Yes, it was! Pius Thicknesse, Voldemort's self-appointed Minister of Magic. Of course, he had claimed to be under imperius. Well, he must be being rehabilitated - she would get no support from that quarter - he'd have a point to prove and certifying a Slytherin witch as Potion Master wouldn't be it. The third was a witch who Milicent didn't recognize. Young, younger than her, Milicent realized with some dismay, she was quiet as the two men spoke. An unknown quantity then.

More important, of course, were the wizards and witches milling around in the jury box. These were the shopkeepers, the professors, the mail-order business owners. Even if she didn't get the certification, Millicent hoped she could impress one enough to be offered a job that could tide her over while she found a better option. She recognized Madam Primpernelle and her shocking pink robes, Mr Slug the apothecary - he had already caught her eye and nodded, George Weasley who was mischievously smiling down at the young Ms Winikus, clearly planning some sort of prank. Not that much potential there either, she thought. Mr Slug was her best bet and he notoriously overworked and underpaid his employees.

All of a sudden, a slew of white sugar mice stormed across the courtroom, running up coats, sitting on noses and blowing raspberries at the startled spectators. Millicent ignored the one balancing on her ear and calmly cast a shield spell over her workbench. The prank was harmless but a stray sugar crystal could disturb any potion. Her competitors were not so sanguine. The first one - a tall thin man, was trying to protect his flowing raven locks, while the second, a short witch was merrily snacking on a squealing mouse

"Mr Weasley, if you would please..." Pius Thicknesse boomed, his voice enhanced by a sonorus charm. 

"Of course, I just wanted a laugh." George Weasley waved his wand and the mice froze. The tall wizard's mouse dispersed over his head, the flakes falling over his head and giving the unfortunate appearance of a bad case of dandruff. The short witch's half-eaten mouse turned into a large cone that promptly upturned itself over her head, muffling her shouts as her legs kicked about knocking her cauldron over. Milicent winced in sympathy. Her own had surprisingly just frozen still. She took out a handkerchief and carefully wrapped it - sugar mice were an indulgence that she suspected she would be unable to afford in the near future.

"Mr Weasley!"

"Yes, yes" the mice dispersed, though her mouse remained. 

"If we can start." Pius Thicknesse nodded at the tall wizard "Spencer Sprucify, is a promising Hogwarts graduate specializing in cosmetic potions, is that right?"

"Yes sir," he replied nervously "for the discerning wizard - witch too! I mean if she would want..."

"Yes, yes" Pius Thicknesse quickly cut him off. Please prepare your potion. You have an hour's time" An hourglass appeared in front of Spencer Sprucify's station

He turned to the short witch "Prunella Smith, this is your second attempt I see. I hope I needn't remind you that only three attempts for potion master status are permitted."

"No, sir" she glared at him.

"And your speciality is herbology potions I see"

"Yes, sir" she nodded quickly.

"Your hour starts now"

At last, he turned towards her "Millicent Bulstrode, Slytherin..." He frowned and there was a bit of muttering in the jury stands. "It says here you already have Potion Master's status from the Hungarian Guild of Potioneers"

"Pshaw, what do the Hungarians know about potions?" Tilden Toots bellowed, glaring at Millicent.

"As Mr Toots implies, the Hungarian Potion Master status is not recognized in Britain," Millicent said calmly.

"I suppose you think this will be a walk in the park with your prior 'qualifications'" he harangued, glaring down at Millicent.

"No sir," she said quietly, her heart beating in her ears. 

"You have no speciality - just something about working on the potion medium?" queried Pius Thicknesse

"Yes sir. I use potions from across the disciplines but I focus on changing how they are delivered"

"Jack of all trades, master of none," Tilden Toots said sotto voce. Milicent looked down at her worn boots biting her tongue. 

"Your time starts now"

As Millicent prepared her ingredients for a simple hair raising potion, her eyes flitted across the spectators. Madams Primpernelle and Winikus were looking closely at Sprucify - no surprise there. Toots was divided between glaring at her and nodding approvingly at Smith. Slug was also looking at her, unable to hide the avaricious gleam in his eyes. George Weasley watched all of them closely, frowning.

All too quickly the 45-minute mark was reached. Her hair raising potion, complete, Millicent cast a series of charms non-verbally - there was no point in giving away her secrets. The potion rose out of the cauldron and rotated, shrinking down until it was no bigger than the size of a small pea. She placed it down on her workbench and focused on cleaning up. The mysterious witch judge nodded approvingly.

"Mr Sprucify, your time is up"

The wizard leapt back from his bench. "I have created a potion that will transform the hair of any to most scrumptious, sparkling, flowing locks in any colour they desire. Never fading, the potion colours any fresh growth and is a one-time fix that-"

``Yes, yes" Pius Thicknesse interrupted. "Please demonstrate"

Sprucify took a swig of his potion and his hair turned the colour of mud, falling in clumps across his head. There was a silence before the female judge said "Sugar crystals in the potion. You intended blond I think.'' The poor wizard nodded, the clumps flowing down his head - the potion hadn't just turned his hair the colour of mud, but into actual mud.

"While we can blame Mr Weasley's prank" and over here she glared at George, who gave her a quick wave. "for the colour, the texture flaw is in your original recipe. Gentlemen," she said, turning to the other judges. "I can not recommend Mr Sprucify for the position of potion master"

"Same," said Mr Toots. Pius Thicknesse nodded.

"Better luck next time Mr Sprucify. Now," turning to Ms Smith "please demonstrate your potion"

The short witch nodded firmly and took her potion and an overgrown potted fanged geranium "it's a self-pruning potion. Just add it in" and here she demonstrated. 'And the overgrown bits fall off" which they did. The satisfied smirk on her face quickly faded when the pruned offshoots sprouted small fangs that they quickly sunk into her leg.

"No sugar crystals, but the dent in your cauldron wrecked the balance of your potion. An elementary mistake. I do not recommend-"

"Come, come, dear lady, you are too severe," said Mr Toots. "A very handy potion indeed, I can see multiple uses"

Pius Thicknesse nodded "I'm sure Ms Smith will not make the same mistake twice. That's two votes in your favour. Congratulations Ms Smith."

The little witch was too busy boxing the offshoots to acknowledge him. 

"Ms Bulstrode," he said in a stern voice "what have you prepared?" 

By this time most of the witches and wizard's in the jury box had cleared out, Millicent realized. Slug leaned over anxiously watching her, while Madam Primpernelle quietly talked to Sprucify in a distant corner. Neither Ms Winikus nor George Weasley was to be seen. Her robe felt too tight, the room oppressive and hot - she took a deep breath and said -

"I have prepared a hair raising potion in minuscule form. Let me demonstrate" Swallowing the tiny ball, Millicent felt her hair rise and hover overhead. 

"A basic fifth-year potion, with no practical use whatsoever." Mr Toots predictably stated "I don't know what passes for potion expertise in Hungary but -'

"The Hogwarts nurse would give her right hand to get potions in such a form. Imagine giving a sick patient a tiny ball rather than an entire potion to swallow. And the room saved in storage - you can't shrink potions that small, you know, without disturbing their efficiency. Ms Bulstrode, can you apply this technique to other potions? Healing potions?" Asked the lady judge

"Yes" nodded Millicent "the original recipe has to be modified slightly but I have successfully shrunk blood-replenishing, cough, pepper-up-"

"But you have not demonstrated them and even if you had these are hardly difficult potions to brew." Pius Thicknesse interrupted "No, I see a lack of originality in your brewing. Potion Masters are supposed to create new potions or at the very least significantly modify the recipe of old ones."

"This is modifying recipes-" 

"No, it's charming an old recipe, Portia. The recipe itself is unchanged or if it is only slightly. If this was a charms master trial... But alas there is no such thing. You are dismissed, Ms Bulstrode."

Millicent strode out of the courtroom, fuming. What a waste of time! As she strode to the lift, Mr Slug approached her "Ah Millicent, my dear girl, overstretched yourself a bit I see. But I suppose you must be looking for some form of livelihood. Desperate times call for desperate measures. These are bad times for us Slytherins, bad times."

"Yes, Mr Slug," she said, her lips pursed, slowing down so that the old man could walk with her.

"But we Slytherins must stick together. Your father was a classmate of mine back in old Hogwarts, you know. I'll do you a favour, dear girl - why don't you come and work for me at Slug & Jiggers? I'll put in a good word for you with Mr Jiggers. Some of our regulars want a few simple potions made up, it shouldn't be too much of a challenge for you. It won't pay very much my dear, I am afraid, but it is something and you have no other option"

"Thank you, Mr Slug, I appreciate the offer," she said dutifully while digging her nails into the meat of her palm.

"No trouble, no trouble at all. I'll expect you in on Monday at 7 am then. We pay a 100 galleons a month minus expenses of course"

She bit her lip, the sum was a pittance and she disliked this minus expenses clause. No losing her temper though."Of course, I will have to discuss it with grandmere first"

At this, the man turned pale "Grandmere?" So he knew her. Must be a relative then, not that there was anything surprising in that, almost all purebloods were. 

"Yes I am staying with her" she replied smoothly.

"Ah yes. Well give her my regards" he said nervously. 

"I will most certainly not" she firmly stated "Regards with no token would be an insult" 

"Ah yes, of course, of course, I forgot, silly me" he carefully took out a large money bag and counted out five galleons. She stared at him and he gave a little jump and counted out 5 more. Handing over the ten galleons, he said: "just a token" with a weak smile.

"Of course, just a  _ little _ token" she smiled She'd have to give the whole amount to grandmere but it would buy her some goodwill and a few more nights under her roof.

"Well I must be off then," he said turning back to the courtroom. 

'i'll let you know about the job" she called at his speeding back. He stopped before coughing "yes, the job" and walked off, clearly he regretted making her the offer.

Now waiting for the lift, Milicent was passed by the lady judge, Portia something. "Good show" she nodded "pity about..." And she grimaced. "I'd speak to George Weasley if I were you. Must rush." And then she was off.

George Weasley? There's no way the former war hero would be interested in hiring her of all people. He hadn't even seen if her potion worked!

Yet when the lift door opened, it was he who stood right in front of her. She entered, trying to think of what to say but before she could open her mouth, he asked: "Do you need a job?" 

"Yes," she answered before she could stop herself "but…"

"I missed the judgement but it was clear that they weren't going to pass you. Why did you even try? You must know the anti-Slytherin bias gives you no chance." He said quickly, looking at her sideways.

"I've been abroad. I didn't realize how bad things have got."

"Well I'm no potions expert - how could I be, didn't even graduate Hogwarts - but tiny potions like that could revolutionize the wizardly wheezes business." 

Jokes and pranks! This was not the direction she had seen her career going. Her dismay must have shown on her face because George Weasley continued:

"Of course, there could be more serious uses to. We could make a small first aid kit with all the common healing potions in miniature form. The Aurors would love that. I'll get Harry to give us a contract…"

"Mr Weasley, please. Are you offering to license my invention?" She interrupted his flow of ideas.

"More than that. And call me George, please. I need a potioneer and you with your ability to think on your feet, knowledge of potions across specialities and creativity fit the bill. We'll pay fairly - 200 galleons a month, plus 2% royalty fee for any item you help invent and 10% if you come up with it from scratch."

Double Slug and Jiggers then. But this was too good to be true!

"Mr Weasley" he glared at her. "George, I think you should talk over this with your partners. I was in the same class as Harry and Ron and we weren't…"

"Oh don't worry about that. Charlie vouched for you in the war, helped our mum against that Bellatrix bitch you did. The Weasley family owes you one."

"Yes but…" she stammered, unsure what to say.

"We're at my floor - tell you what, come over on Monday for lunch. Ron and I will be both there. There's nothing to worry about.

And with that, he rushed out. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting weekly updates on Friday. 
> 
> Most of the side characters, spells, potions, flora and fauna are actually asides mentioned in the Harry Potter books. Howland Coopey, for instance, was originally mentioned as the author of a letter to the Daily Prophet's problem page describing the symptoms of dragon pox.
> 
> I've only read the books and not seen the movies or plays so this doesn't quite stick to canon.
> 
> Thanks ever so much to Larla for her clever insights, hilarious comments and warm support

Charlie Weasley smiled at his last student and got up from his desk, waving his wand to reset the chairs in the classroom. Teaching was never an occupation he had thought of pursuing, but increasingly his time on the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was being spent explaining the nuances of dragon-keeping. This latest set of students were a Chinese delegation and they just had a spirited discussion with Charlie on whether pigs were best served living or dead to their newly acquired pregnant Liondragon.

Leaving the classroom hut and entering into the late November afternoon, Charlie was dismayed to see the sun had already started setting. Casting a quick A _ccio_ he mounted his broom, hoping to see Norberta before the Norwegian Ridgeback returned to her cave. But before he could set off he was hailed by Jack, the newest apprentice at the sanctuary. "Director wants to see you," he yelled. 

"Can't it wait?" Charlie protested. "I was to give Norberta her last meal"

The apprentice grinned. "Oh, I'll take care of it. You better run - do you want to keep him waiting?"

"No I suppose not" he grumbled, as he walked over to the largest hut at the centre of the settlement. During Director Brown's time, the director's hut was a small building situated at the side of the settlement on a small hillock, facing the dragon caves. One of Director Coopey's first acts was to requisition the large mess hall as his office, and Charlie, as the second in command, had taken over the old hut as his personal lodgings and office. Not that he spent much time in them. Coopey kept him busy with teaching sessions in Romania, international conferences and foreign consultancies. He hardly spent any time with the dragons, these days, he moped to himself as he entered the Director's hut.

Inside the office, Coopey was on a floo call and his secretary signalled to Charlie to wait in the reception room. He put his broom down, sat awkwardly on the overstuffed armchairs and tried to stop scratching his old burns. 

"Ahh Charlie, so good of you to come" Coopey exclaimed. "Come into my private room"

Charlie followed him silently and closed the door once they stepped in. "What's up, Howland? Don't tell me you have another urgent foreign trip for me to go on?"

"Foreign trip? Oh no, not really that is. I just wanted to ask if you are still planning to go home on your Christmas vacation?" He asked while sitting behind his desk. 

Charlie chose to keep standing by the door. "If you mean, am I'm visiting my  _ parents' _ home as I always do? Then yes" he replied, his eyes narrowing at the nervous man. 

"Oh do come and sit down. I was just thinking would you mind awfully going up to the Welsh Green Reservation - you do know of it, don't you? It's by-"

"Of course I know of it - I helped shepherd the dragons back into it and rebuild the wards after the war. Voldemort's troops had left it in an awful state." Charlie said as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Vo-vol - him, of course, I had forgotten." There was a moment of cold silence as the director fumbled at his desk, his face hooded. The war was of course the root of the issue. Of all his friends and colleagues at the sanctuary, Coopey was the only one who did not come with him to fight Voldemort's troops. It had ruined their long-standing relationship - after all, they had been lovers since starting their apprenticeships together when Charlie had nursed him through a nasty bout of dragon pox. But it served Coopey well - the extra year made him technically senior to Charlie and landed him the coveted directorship. Charlie wouldn't have cared for that if it wasn't for the fact that Coopey had done everything in his power to separate him from his beloved dragons since landing the position five years ago. It also didn't help that in the year Charlie had been away fighting and watching his best friend and brother die, Coopey had gone on to marry Helena Ridgebit, the daughter of the old founder of the sanctuary. Their relationship never quite recovered after that blow.

" Why do you want me to go to Wales?" Charlie asked when it was clear that Coopey wasn't going to break the silence.

"Oh," he jumped "we haven't heard from old Davies for a while and-"

"For how long?" Charlie interrupted.

"Um," he looked smashed. "Well, it'll be two years in January but-"

"Two years! Howland the man's at least ninety!" Charlie exploded. 

"Yes I know but he's never been very communicative and the feed packets were being picked up regularly." He tried to explain, waving his hands about 

"What about the potion ingredients?" Charlie asked thinking of the dragon ingredients that were regularly harvested and sold to Potioneers to offset the cost of running the reservations. 

"Well that's just it - we missed a delivery two years ago. It was just a few days after his last reply so we didn't think anything of it. But then we missed another one last week. We sent him a query but didn't get any answer. I was hoping you could go and check." He asked looking up at Charlie through his lashes. 

Still annoyed, Charlie grumbled: "I will if there's no other option. But couldn't someone else-"

"I wouldn't trust anyone else, Charlie. Merlin knows what is going on there! But tell you what we'll give you an extra two weeks of holiday as recompense. In fact, why don't you make it a full two months and we'll see you in February." Coopey brightly said.

"There's no way it will take so long" Charlie protested. 

"Oh but you can go up to the Hebrides. Perhaps you can convince the MacFusty clan to let us borrow a Hebridean Black-"

"There's no way we can keep a Hebridean Black - they need a 100 miles of solo territory and no MacFusty will be parted from them" Charlie interrupted.

"But we can do such clever things with expansion charms now. And Charlie you can really be charming when you put your mind to it" He leaned across the desk and lightly put his hand on Charlie's muscular forearm. "Moira MacFusty was quite taken with you. Not that you objected, if I remember correctly. She'd make a good match for you and the MacFusty clan couldn't have any issues with her travelling with a Hebridean Black even if it is to Romania."

Shaking his hand off, Charlie growled: "If you have quite finished planning out my marriage…"

"Sorry sorry!" The man said jumping back. "But you will go, won't you? To both places?"

Charlie glared but Coopey looked at him entreatingly. It wasn't like he could object, of course, Coopey outranked him. Finally, he grudgingly said "I will. My mother won't be too happy about my missing the Christmas season but-"

"Oh no have your break like normal. Don't bother to go to Wales till January. It will keep another month. Anyway, the dragons are practically in hibernation during December."

Another wild goose chase to get him off the sanctuary, Charlie reflected, as Coopey prattled on. Over time his attraction to the wizard had faded to a low-level disgust. Why oh why was he so insecure? They could have co-existed in the sanctuary, but as it was they were always butting heads. Coopey could have taken charge, but he always played helpless, batting his eyes and expecting Charlie to rescue him from his own messes. Waiting two years to investigate a missing shipment of potion ingredients!? What was he thinking!

Yes, going back to England had its attractions, Charlie thought as he took his leave and walked to his hut. For one, it would give him a much-needed break from the Director. And there were his parents, brothers and sister as well as the nieces and nephews. Plus with no supervisor pestering him, he could spend as long as he liked with the dragons. Yes, Howland Coopey would get his two months free of Charlie. 

Coming home to his dark and cold hut, Charlie cast a _Lumos_ before bending down to light the fireplace. Immediately, a sloppy wet kiss hit his cheek. Falling back, he exclaimed "Bloody hell! Georgie, what the fuck?" 

"Ooh is that the mouth you kiss mum with?" Said the hyper twin. 

Charlie grinned back at him. Reaching his hands into the fireplace he tried to give him a noogie. Next to George was a pair of large sneaker-clad feet. Grin widening, he pulled them down and a frowning Ron fell into view. "Aww, it's lil Ronnikins! Come here and give us a kiss"

"Leave off," said Ron. His head and George's were crammed in the small hut's fireplace. Charlie's heart gave a deep tug. They looked so similar… but not. Ron's face thinner, longer, more freckled. Charlie kept his smile pinned. He wasn't, he swore to himself, going to punish Ron for not being Fred. He wasn't!

"So what words of wisdom do you young ones wish to hear?" he joked "for I am the one who knows all, sees all, hears-"

"Oh can it," said his hot-tempered little brother. "George is hiring -"

"We got a new potioneer, Charlie" interrupted George 

"A Slytherin" Ron interjected. 

George poked him in the ribs "She's one of us, Charlie vouches for her"

"I do?" Charlie asked, surprised. "And who is this snake lady?"

"She's no lady, more like a co-" Ron huffed

George put his hand over his mouth "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Do you want Angie to hear you disparaging a woman?" He whispered.

Charlie laughed "You have no self-preservation little brother. Hermione would have your balls."

Ron wrestled free. "She hates her too! Why Millicent put her in a headlock back in a school. And this one time, 'mione tried to polyjuice... "

"Millicent?" The name rang no bells.

"You said she and her grandmother saved mother in her fight with Bellatrix." George replied as he tried to pull Ron's ear. 

"Grandmother? You mean Grandmere?" He asked.

"Yeah same difference"

"Didn't know she was French." Ron interjected.

"She isn't." The brothers stopped fighting and looked at him, catching the uncharacteristic seriousness of his tone. "At least not that I know of. And you have hired her?"

"Yeah, it's part of the expansion plan - she takes care of the potions and maybe even invents a few items while I -"

"He's offered her royalty, Charlie!" Wailed Ron. 

"Well, I'm not going to shortchange her!"

"Ron," Charlie hurriedly interjected before the two started arguing again. "What happened with the polyjuice?"

"Polyjuice? Oh with Mione? Nothing" he said frowning "No wait she picked up Millicent's cat's hair by accident and became this weird cat-human, all covered in black fur and her ears.."

"Ooh that could be a good Halloween costume!" George exclaimed, trying to grab a quill and parchment while trying to twist Ron's ear.

"It's no costume," Charlie said firmly. "Look, guys, -" The two wrestled on in the fireplace. Merlin, his brothers! Charlie let out a loud whistle, the type he used for the Hungarian horntails. 

"Owww" they both exclaimed. "Charlieeee!"

"This is important. You've hired her now so there's no way out. Both of you be polite to her and about her family. No nosy questions and-"

"We're always polite!" Ron protested. It took an inhuman effort from Charlie to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

"No, I mean use the manners mother's taught us," he said. 

"You mean pureblood's manners?" George asked mystified.

"Yes, tell the others and teach them to Harry and Hermione as well" he said

``I can't teach Mione!" Ron protested and George made a whipped sound. 

Charlie frowned "This is serious" 

The two stopped. He held their gaze, knowing they could remember Fred's voice joking "Sirius". It was below the belt - this joke. One that the family had unanimously, undiscussed retired. George's hurt was plain to see and Ron looked tired, a man in his late thirties rather than a teenager. 

"It's important" the apology quiet in his voice

"Is she dangerous?" Ron asked. 

"Evil?" Chimed in George.

"Just because something is dangerous, doesn't mean it's evil" Charlie answered.

"That's not a no" George observed.

"She helped save Mum" Charlie offered.

"Something" Ron mumbled. George looked at him questioningly. "He said something is dangerous, not someone"

Of course, trust his brother the chess champion to see through. "Hush both of you" he said sternly, "Don't discuss it with anyone, even amongst yourselves. I'll tell you on Sunday when I am back "

He said his good nights to the subdued brothers and paced around the hut. One glass of fire whisky later, he grabbed a quill and scratched out a short note that he attached to his owl. "Avoid every one" he instructed, "and, come straight back, there won't be a reply". 


	3. Chapter 3

Millicent slowly sipped her breakfast tea across her old classmate, Pansy Parkinson-Smith. The day before she had run into the witch at the Ministry's telephone box. Pansy had been uncharacteristically enthusiastic - pulling Millicent into a long warm embrace and insisting that she join her at her husband's family home. Millicent was hardly in a position to refuse, Grandmere was not known for her generosity and with her uncertain employment prospects, a free dinner and an overnight stay was nothing to refuse

"I can't tell you how happy I am to see you, Millie! Pansy exclaimed. "England is just awful, I can't see how I survived here as a child. Why the weather…"

As Pansy complained Millicent was reminded that she had never liked the other Slytherin, although no hint of this ever passed across her face. She had been happy enough to fall in the role of flunkie during their school days in exchange for Parkinson's stamp of light, inconsistent approval that masked her from the more avaricious eyes in the Slytherin house. Now as adults, Pansy had, of course, fallen on her feet despite the debacle at the final battle. Married to the wealthy Zacharias Smith, the two lived a life of leisure flitting through the capitals of Europe, while their daughters attended Durmstrang. British wizard society, of course, was unflinching in their disapproval of the couple - Zacharias labelled a coward while Pansy was persona non grata. But the two had made the most of exile. Life on the continent meant that Millicent always heard gossip of the couple - the reassuringly routine whisperings of Pansy's latest scandalous affair with some highly-placed official followed quickly by news of Zacharias' appointment to a short-lived but extremely profitable post in the local ministry of Magic. 

"I'm surprised to find you here, Pansy. My last letter from you was just a week ago and you didn't mention coming back." Millicent said in a pause in the conversation.

"Oh, I hadn't planned on coming then. Zacharias, of course, comes by every year. The poor duck has too. It's such a tiresome condition of his father's will. But the friends we were staying with became quite unbearable and I really couldn't stand to be away from my darling Zacharias!" She said while playing with her necklace of frozen dragon tears.

Her latest affair was found out and she was kicked out, Millicent translated in her head. She really needed to work on her tells - she always would play with her jewellery when lying.

"But enough about me! Have you been registered, Millie?"

"Registered?" She asked confused.

Pansy started. "You mean you don't know. Millie, it's awful! All of us Slytherins have to report to that dratted Ministry once a week."

"I haven't heard anything," Millicent said.

"Oh, you'll get the owl soon enough," grimly predicted Pansy. 

"And what happens during the reporting? Are they monitoring us again?" If they were her plans for a life in Britain would have to be re-examined. The charms that she used for her mini-potions were easily imitated. 

"No. It's all Prior Incantate and a lot of nosy questions under veritaserum" Pansy huffed "Of course it doesn't hurt you with your potions, but for me and my charms! All these insolent wizards asking all sorts of questions - 'on what did you cast this depilation charm? Why did you use an enhancement charm?' Oh it just can't be borne"

At this Pansy paused and quickly looked around. She leaned over and in a high pitch whisper "I know I shouldn't say, indeed my mother would be furious, but I was wondering could you and your Grandmere teach them a lesson? I swore I would get even with them."

Pansy, reflected Millicent, was a fool. 

"A lesson?" She said mildly. 

A lifetime of acquaintance meant, however, that Pansy could see the suppressed anger in Millicent's eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything but Millie, it's not just for me - it's for all of us."

"Us?"

"Us Slytherins! Even the little 18-year-olds. They weren't even born when the war happened! But I saw them in the line waiting for their wands to be checked. And the wizards were just so awful" She paused and looked straight into Millicent's eyes. 

Millicent ignored her invitation for legilimency. "I believe you, Pansy. But after what happened in the war, it's only to be expected"

"That's just it Millie. It's _not_ to be expected! Things are supposed to get better. I thought they were. Why even Potter's spawn was sorted into Slytherin! They were supposed to forget! But they aren't forgetting. They're holding onto grudges more deeply then they did even after the war!"

"You think they are being riled up? Millicent asked 

"They must be but I can't think of who is responsible. Auntie Rita has the Prophet well under control. " Pansy said thoughtfully. "And Looney Lovegood only babbles about her made-up creatures in The Quibbler. "

"Grandmere - and she's not mine or anyone's, Pansy! You should know better. Grandmere doesn't do anything for free. And your attempts to make it a Slytherin-wide debt will only raise the cost." 

Pansy paled but didn't back down "Something needs to be done! Zacharias and I don't have much" At this, her hand went up to her necklace "but we will give what we can spare-"

"No one gives Grandmere what they can spare, Pansy!" Millicent growled furiously at the foolishness of her former classmate "She takes and she takes what you least want to lose."

Finally, the other witch seemed to catch on. "I didn't know it was like that, Millie. Don't say anything to her-"

"I have to Pansy! Do you think I have any choice?" She clenched her mouth shut and tried to calm down. Pansy had jumped up and looked absolutely stricken. Her hand fingered her wand.

"Oh put your wand away. She knows I've talked to you. Anything happens to me and she'll be even more furious!"

"Millie! I wasn't-" exclaimed Pansy. Her stupid hand started creeping up

"Give me your necklace." She demanded

"That's worth thousands of galleons!" Pansy protested.

"I know! Hopefully, it'll be enough to stop her from coming here and biting of your head!" Millicent replied. "I'll do what I can but don't think that I can do much."

-

"Money" screeched Grandmere from where she hung from the rafters. "I neeeed money!"

Millicent padded to the middle of the underground Temple and dropped the bag with 10 galleons and Pansy's necklace. "With compliments from your descendants' Slug and Parkinson"

Grandmere flew down and ran a claw through the offerings "I ask for money and you give me pocket change and potions' ingredients" she observed dryly. Her feathers disappeared leaving behind a tall stern woman whose face constantly morphed between the young, middle-aged and old.

Millicent knew better than to look directly at her. The constantly changing faces could induce queasiness on the strongest stomach. "The necklace," she said "is worth over five thousand galleons."

Grandmere took the necklace in a clawed hand and gazed at it thoughtfully. As an immortal being, her understanding of time was weak at best, so Millicent wandered to her uncle's alcove while waiting fr her to break from her reverie. The Minotaur's statue was cracked, the spirit within it long banished from the world. More of a tomb now than a temple, the old building was impossible to find by any who were not Grandmere's direct descendants. She had told Millicent, in a rare candid moment, that when the temple had been built by the Romans it was open to all. Crowds of Picts, Celtics and Romans had stamped across the floor she was standing on. Now though the temple was hidden away from both muggles and wizards, buried deep underground and out of both sight and memory.

"And what is it that the two desire?" Grandmere was now in her cat form, dark black, long and languidly twined around her son's statue's horns. 

"Mr Slug, to overwork me. Pansy Parkinson - to find and punish those who persecute the Slytherins" she said, letting her feline form cover her in turn. 

"Fools! What fools I have given the world." Grandmere sighed. "And you, granddaughter, what is it that you desire?"

Millicent stayed quiet. This was a question to which there was no right answer

"Not that I'd give it to you. " She screeched, her voice echoing back. "For one of my own has already charged me with a quest"

Millicent blinked at this. Who would dare? And who would Grandmere say yes to?

"And you will help" Grandmere instructed as she hopped off the statue and stood in front of Millicent, her form growing. 

"Yes, Grandmere," she said with a tranquillity she didn't feel, "and what will I get in return?

"Ask your nephew," Grandmere answered, pointing a long nail behind her.

Millicent turned around and looked straight into the eyes of Severus Snape.

\----

"Over twenty-five years ago, my mother out of despair, sacrificed herself to Grandmere," Snape told her. They had been shooed out of the temple by Grandmere. and Millicent had apparated them to the National Gallery, the hordes of muggle tourists acting as a cover for the two of them. 

Professor Snape had not changed in the least bit and it startled Millicent to observe that he appeared the same age as her. Around his neck, Grandmere had cast an illusionary green scarf, one that never fell down no matter how he moved his head. Millicent had transfigured his old robes into the dark jeans and a black knee-length coat favoured by most of the male muggles streaming past them. She had shed her own formal robes to reveal blue jeans and an oversized sweater. Together they looked like siblings - tall, dark-haired, long in face and nose, and pale but where he was skinny she was curved and padded. 

"She came to me just before the war and told me she owed me a favour. I begged her to save Albus but she refused. To protect the boy but she said no. Finally, I told her to defeat the dark lord and that's when she told me" he said harshly. "He had a hold on her and she was serving him. She wouldn't raise a claw against him."

"You mean Vold-" 

"Silence" he hissed at her. 

"He's been dead almost twenty years!" She protested.

"How do you know?" He asked his hand on his left forearm.

She looked at it. "Is it?"

"No, it's not active. But the mark remains."

"It remains for all of them," she said quietly "But Potter swears he's dead"

"So he survived then?" Snape asked. 

"Yes - head of magical law enforcement now" she replied. "Has two sons at Hogwarts and a daughter who'll be going in a year or two. One of the sons is a Slytherin. There's a rumour that he's the master of death"

"Really" he looked thoughtful. She kept silent as he gathered his thoughts. 

"Anyway, about two years ago I wake up to see Grandmere staring down at me. It was touch and go for a while but after a year or so I finally stayed conscious long enough for her to tell me that she had repaid her debt to me by saving my life." At this, he shook his head.

"I told her in no uncertain terms that she had not. I had asked for three favours and she had turned down each and every one of them. For a month we raged and yelled at each other but I refused to give in. Finally, six months ago she came and she asked me again what did I want?"

At this Millicent winced. Snape acknowledged it with a nod "I knew, of course, what a dangerous trick she was playing on me. My mother had warned me that she would twist the most benign wish against you. But I had my own tricks and I had rage and I had vengeance. For when she asked me, she looked straight into my eyes and I hardly needed a wand to slip into her mind."

She gasped "But she's not human!"

"Nor are we," he said casting a wry glance at her.

"Yes but she's ancient. Her mind must be…"

"Like nothing we have ever come across," he said. "You know she never bothered to practice any of the arts of occlumency. Why should she when the landscape of her mind would tear any invading forces to insanity through sheer perplexity? But I slid when I should have charged, I peered when I should have gazed straight on and I trusted no image, no sacrificial ploy, no apparently empty spot of respite."

"How are you not mad?" Millicent asked her eyes wide.

He laughed at this. "Oh, I am. For I think - apart from my heritage - my tryst with the Dark Lord's soul and those long years of death have made me even less human, less sane to those we surround ourselves. For I understand her, Ms Bulstrode. I know how her mind works and the two of us, we will work well together I think." A rare smile crossed his face. 

Shivers went up her spine. Millicent, she thought to herself in despair, what have you got yourself into.

"And you will help, my dear Aunt." He continued. It was not a question, a simple statement she saw. 

Finally, she said in her calmest voice, even though every nerve shrieked with terror. "As I said to Grandmere, what will I get in return?"

"Well-played," he said. "I'll make you a potion master within the next two years"

"You have picked a hard task - I've just failed the potion master trials," she said dryly. 

"I know. Grandmere has been watching. You'll take the Weasley job by the way. The twins will be good for you" He said moving from one picture to the next.

"Twin. Fred Weasely died in the war." She corrected.

"Did he?" He said uninterested, gazing closely at the Turner they were standing in front of.

"And what do you want me to do?" She asked annoyed. 

"First, tell me everything I missed." He replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite it being 4 in the afternoon, Diagon Alley was already dark and gloomy, the street lights and shop windows doing little to pierce through the rising fog. Charlie peered through it as he exited the international floo office, before catching sight of a familiar shade of red hair. 

"Perce! Percy!" He called out. His brother turned around and quickly walked towards him. They met with a quick hug. It wasn't, strictly speaking, necessary for one of his siblings to meet him, but his multi-stage journey with broomstick ride, apparition and many floo trips meant that he was all but knackered by the time he reached England. One too many near-splicing accidents and Molly had insisted he continue the journey by side-along apparition. Part of him still rankled at this, but apparition was never his strong suit.

"Right on time, Charlie! No issues with the new travel rules I hope?" Percy greeted. 

"Nah it wasn't an issue. Just a bunch of paperwork" Charlie replied. "How have you been? Where are Audrey and the girls - waiting at the Burrow?"

"I'm fine, Charlie," Percy replied with a smile "Audrey's taken the girls to visit her muggle grandparents in Ireland this Christmas. I'll miss them, of course, but work is keeping me busy..."

"Still a workaholic, I see" Charlie observed.

"You are not much better! Every time we talk you are off on one conference or the other" Percy protested mildly.

"Well, you have me here for the next two months," Charlie replied. 

"Two months? That's longer than your average break. Is everything okay?" Percy asked concerned.

"Yes, just need to check up on some dragons here" Charlie mumbled.

Percy looked at him and then, in a rare moment of discretion, decided not to inquire further. Instead, he reached over to hold Charlie's arm. "We should apparate to the Burrow -"

"Wait!" Charlie moved away "I need to pick up a few things from Diagon." He led them to a fluorescent pink shop front.

"Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions" read out Percy. "Charlie! You don't mean to visit this shop, do you? It's for witches!"

Charlie opened the shop door and was promptly swallowed up by clouds of performed purple steam. "It's not just for witches, Perce" he coughed. 

Percy gingerly stepped into the fragrant shop. "I don't know why you would ever go here. It's not the place for a man of action like you!"

"Man of action?! Where do you come up with these phrases!" Charlie hissed back. He looked sternly at his brother but before he could launch his tirade on gender stereotypes, he saw what Percy was wearing.

"Are those ministry robes you are wearing? On a Sunday?"

"Well," his brother looked sheepish. "I got called in suddenly. There was an incident at the suspicious individuals monitoring office - owl couldn't find the person they wanted to monitor. Most odd, I tell you! But why they thought I could do anything about it….'

At the desk, a tall bored-looking young man wearing an oversized hat set down what looked like a potions textbook, and approached them. "How may I help you, gentlemen?" He said interrupting Percy.

Charlie gave him his most charming smile. "I had commissioned a new hair tonic from Madam Primpernelle. It's should be under Weasley, Charles. She said it would be ready by today"

"I'll just check sir." He replied and stepped through a side door. 

"You are commissioning hair potions?" Percy said in outraged accents. "You work on a dragon sanctuary!"

"Hey just because I work with beasts, doesn't mean I want to look like one" Charlie replied.

Before Percy could say anything else, a loud bang came from the side door. The two brothers exchanged glances, and darted towards it, wands drawn. Before they could open the door, the shop assistant came tumbling out, hat askew. 

"Slight delay in the potion" he coughed. "Will have it ready in 45, no in an hour's time."

Charlie put away his wand and eyed the shop assistant dubiously. "Are you sure-"

"Yes it will be fine," he said hurriedly. He turned to look at Percy "And for you, sir? We have a new line in hair restoring potions that can work wonders for the balding wizard."

"Balding" croaked a red-faced Percy. "I have more hair than you!"

The wizard jumped and fixed his hat. "My lack of hair is the result of an unfortunate potions accident, that's all I assure you."

"I think" intervened Charlie "that we should get going. When will Madam Primpernelle be in? I'll get the potion from her."

"Ahh but I could fix it" at Charlie's stern look, the shop assistant subsided. "She'll be in on Wednesday," he said, morosely.

The brothers took their leave and escaped the potion shop.

"Well that was a waste of time," grumbled Percy. "What's next on your list of errands?"

"I have to meet Luna Lovegood at the new wand shop" Charlie replied.

"Ginny's friend? I didn't know you knew each other?" Percy asked as they walked towards the shop.

"I met her at a conference a few years ago" Charlie replied as he opened the door to the shop.

Luna was seated near the window, a mountain of wands behind her and a smaller one in front. She was dressed uncharacteristically plainly, with none of her usual jewellery or scarves. Her dirty blonde hair had been pulled back tight in a bun and her face seemed to be an afterthought behind her protuberant eyes. She really looks inhuman, Charlie caught himself thinking with some shame.

She jumped up when Percy coughed. As she smiled, the inhuman Luna disappeared and she looked like her usual harmless, slightly dotty self. '"Charlie" she greeted warmly. "And Percy! It's so good to see you. I was just weighing some wands. I got your owl, Charlie."

"Yes," he replied differently, "I think my family needs to be told about your research."

"Told what?" Asked Percy mystified.

"Oh yes, of course," Luna nodded, ignoring the interruption. "The stakes are high though as you know"

"Well that's it, I don't know," Charlie said, "you have told me that are the dire consequences for getting on the wrong side of Grandmere but you haven't said what they are."

Luna looked at him quietly "I can understand" she said slowly, "how it would be difficult to comprehend. But the problem is Grandmere works on multiple levels, she takes what is most precious to you, but is that the you now, the you tomorrow or the you yesterday? She's not bound by human logic you see."

"Who is Grandmere?" Percy asked looking lost in the conversation.

Both Charlie and Luna turned to stare blankly at him and then turned to each other. "I can't explain this on my own" Charlie exhaled. "We are all meeting for Bill's birthday on Wednesday. I thought I'd share it with the family then. Will you come, Luna?"

There was a long silence, the shop clock ticked and ticked but Luna was quiet. Just as Percy was about to catch his brother's eye, though, she spoke brightly: "I love birthdays!"

Charlie sighed in relief.

The meeting with Luna finished soon after that and the brothers found themselves once again in the dark Diagon alley street. 

"One last stop, Perce!" Charlie said jovially. "and that's the shop, so you can't complain."

"This Grandmere person, she sounds dangerous. Does the ministry know?" Percy asked urgently.

"Oh for Merlin's sake! Perce don't say her name!" 

"Why not? Charlie this is like Voldemort all over again!" Percy stopped in the middle of the street. "We have just started living, Charlie. We can't go through it again"

"It's not the same," Charlie said trying to comfort his younger brother. "Grandmere's been around before wizardry. We have always been going through it."

"You said her name. I thought we weren't supposed to say her name" Percy asked.

"I don't know what we are supposed to do or not" Charlie sighed. "But we can't escape this. We owe a debt, so might as well pay it upfront."

Percy said nothing but his frown made it clear he was not happy with the situation. The two of them stepped into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Dodging the flying merchandise out of habit, Charlie called out "George? Ron?"

"In the back" came Ron's voice.

In the comparatively quieter back room, Ron was pouring over a piece of parchment, while taking sips for a bottle of butterbeer, his hair turning a darker shade of green with each sip. He hadn't caught on the prank, leading Charlie and Percy to smile at each other, despite their earlier conversation.

"Sprouting up well, ronnikins" Charlie teased.

"What?" Ron asked perplexed. He grabbed his wand and transfigured the nearby toaster to a mirror. "George" he hollered, "you said the butterbeer wasn't ready to test"

"Where is Georgie?' asked Percy as he swiped the parchment out of Ron's hand.

"Down in the basement in his potions lab. Hey, give that back!" He protested.

"Are these interview questions?" Percy exclaimed.

"That they are," said George as he climbed up the stairs and entered the room "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is hiring!

"These are awfully technical questions to ask a shop attendant" observed Percy

"Not hiring a shop attendant, we are getting a Potioneer - Millicent Bulstrode" corrected Ron as he grabbed back the parchment.

"Millicent Bulstrode?" Asked Percy.

"Yes," said George cautiously.

"Really?" Percy asked. "She's the one the suspicious individuals monitoring office were trying to owl."

"Suspicious individuals monitoring office?" said Ron. "Anything we should know about?"

Percy shrugged "No, they just want her to register for the weekly monitoring appointments. She's a Slytherin you know"

"Yes, she was in school with us" Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't you remember?"

"He had his head in the books, I'm sure," said Charlie.

"Or in Penelope-"

"That's enough!" Percy exploded "No need to bring up ancient history, George Weasley!"

In the interest of keeping the peace, Charlie hurriedly intervened "when are you guys interviewing Millicent Bulstrode?"

"Tomorrow over lunch" Ron replied.

"Lunch at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Charlie glanced around the room, his eyes flitting from one suspicious food item to another.

"She'll need nerves of steel" Percy observed half-admiringly

"It's a great test" George enthused. "If she can keep her nerves under fire she will be perfect for us!"

"This is going to be a disaster" grimly predicted Ron.

"She did fine in the Potion Master's trial"

"She's a Potion Master?" Asked Percy surprised.

"No she failed it"

"How come?"

"I don't know what the official reason was but Toots and Thicknesse would never let a Slytherin through." 

Percy frowned "Thicknesse may be overcorrecting a little but he's fair, George."

Why was it that the two of them could never get along? Charlie wondered. He hadn't been there for much of Percy's separation from the family but the scars of it clearly lingered.

"Do you think it's okay?" Ron asked him quietly as they watched Percy and George argue "The prank food and all with this Grandmere person?"

Charlie sighed, he was flying blind into this, with just a faint idea of the dangers involved. "It will be okay" after all from what he had heard Slytherins did much worse to each other every day. "Just don't mention Grandmere"

"Charlie, you've got us potions ingredients?" Asked George, his argument with Percy temporarily settled.

"That's right" he took out a bag from his robes and unshrunk it. "Dragon ingredients a galore, I just stopped by to drop them off"

"I'll give you a receipt," said Ron, moving to his desk. 

George poked through the ingredients. "This is a good haul, Charlie! Can't wait to see what the new girl will do with this"

"Speaking of Milicent Bulstrode," Percy said. "Would one of you give her suspicious individuals monitoring office letter when she comes for an interview?"

George and Ron exchanged glances. "That's hardly the best foot to start a new employee with" Ron objected.

Percy sighed. "I don't know why the owl can't find her, this is unheard of."

"Well you know she'll be here at lunchtime." Said Charlie "Just send the owl then"

Percy nodded "I'll tell the Ministry. So are we done? Or do you want to stop by Madam Primpernelle's again?"

"Madam Primpernelle?" Asked George "she's got a new potioneer - something Sprucify, he was my second choice after Millicent."

"You dodged a bludger there," said Percy "He managed to blow up Charlie's hair tonic"

"What do you need a hair tonic for, Charlie?" asked Ron, as he handed him his receipt. 

The brothers peered at his head. Sometimes he hated being the short one amongst his brothers. "Oi back off," he said trying to wave them away.

"You know your hair is darker than ours," said Percy, swiftly plucking a hair each from his and Ron's heads and comparing the two. 

"Oww" moaned Ron "wait are you dyeing your hair?"

"Not dyeing" Charlie protested "just conditioning it and tinting it to remove the brassy tones"

"Brassy tones?" Said George, looking like all his wildest dreams had come true. "Wait till we tell Bill"

"Wait till we tell Gin, you mean," said Ron, grinning evilly. 

"No, wait till we tell Mum!" Exclaimed Percy.

Merlin's bollocks! His brothers were evil. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Larla for Charlie's line "Hey just because I work with beasts, doesn't mean I want to look like one"


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the weekend Millicent spent helping move Grandmere and Snape into their new place. Snape had found an old shack in the Outer Hebrides. Entering it, Millicent knew immediately a potioneer had lived there - the main room was dominated by a large fire pit and well-scrubbed workbench. Nearby there were two large stained shelves, that were clearly meant to house ingredients. The rest of the furniture - a wobbly table, a washbasin, and a dusty bed - was huddled together in a dark corner. There was one doorway opposite the entrance and it led to a small room, which was furnished with a desk and several empty bookshelves. The whole place was cold and musty. Luxury this was not.

"Zygmunt Budge" breathed Snape reverentially, as he put a hand on the desk, "wrote the Book of Potions here"

Ahh. "Professor," Millicent began "while I appreciate the historical significance, it's -"

"A piece of shit" interrupted Grandmere "not a perch, a basket or even a bed for the girl. "

Snape sighed and took out several pebbles from his robe. "Here you go."

Grandmere scowled at him and then looked at one of the stones. A large four-post bed with ornate carvings of some ancient sharp-toothed cat-like creatures poofed into existence, forcing Snape and Millicent to jump to the edges of the room.

"I'll take care of the expansion charms first," said Snape quickly.

"Let me handle the outside," chimed in Millicent. Getting out of Grandmere's way was definitely a good idea.

"We'll do the security together" Grandmere ordered. 

Now, on Monday morning Millicent woke up in the four-post bed in her new bedroom. Snape had refused to change the original structure but he had got Milicent to shift the potions equipment to the newly magicked basement and cast a wandless spell to create a bedroom for himself there. Grandmere had then turned the outer walls transparent, giving a view of the North Atlantic sea for both the potions lab and the bedroom. The green tint and wavering light that the ocean cast across the rooms reminded Milicent of the Slytherin common room. In the few hours of daylight, they had silently watched the schools of fish, amongst the seaweed and the occasional diving gannet. It was cold, eerie and ever so beautiful but Milicent had no wish to relive her Hogwarts days.

She preferred her own bedroom tucked behind the main shack, looking onto the white sands of the island's one non-rocky beach. The room, apart from Grandmere's ostentatious bed, was furnished sparingly, a wardrobe for her clothes and a small bookshelf overcrowded with the tomes she had picked up over the years. The attached bathroom was more generous - featuring a sunken bath and a transparent roof so that Millicent could watch the fast-moving clouds. Upstairs Grandmere roosted in a wind-blown tower room. Tucked in her bedroom, Milicent could hear her calling out to the Hebridean blacks. The large dragons would swirl by, their only visitors.

She woke up to find the sky still dark and star-studded. She dressed quickly, her robes stiff and black. 'Non-descript" she thought to herself, she just needed to be non-descript. Entering into the main room of the shack she found Grandmere and Snape already up and starting breakfast. They both looked at her. 

"They are not going to hire you if they can't see you," said Snape sternly.

She frowned and conjured a mirror. Looking out from it was a dark shadow, barely humanoid. She sighed and reined herself in, gradually a white face, recognizably hers appeared in the mirror. 

"Fine?" she asked turning the other two.

"Maybe a little colour," said Grandmere. In the mirror her robes tightened around her bust, the neckline turned into a deep v and the black was replaced by a dark red lace. 

"I look like a vampire" protested Milicent.

"Snappy dressers" mumbled Grandmere around her newly appeared fangs.

"It's hardly going to help our case if she's hauled of as a creature of the night" objected Snape.

"Fine" grumbled Grandmere. The robes turned back to their normal black, the neckline rose up but stayed v-shaped, and the robes remained tight on her bust as well. Millicent frowned. 

"Let it go," advised Snape. "Breakfast is ready."

Milicent sighed and joined the other two at the table.

\----

Three hours later and she finally strode into the Leaky Cauldron. As she walked past the seated diners, she caught sight of a familiar-looking couple, a short witch and a tall bald man. They were both glumly staring down into their teacups. She paused, trying to place them. The Potion Master's trial - they were the other contenders she realized. The witch looked up and caught her eye. Millicent wondered if she should nod at her and decided not to - she'd probably had forgotten her. But just as she decided to go, the witch darted forward, upturning her chair and almost dropping her cup.

"It's you, isn't it? The other candidate at the Potion Master's trial?" She said eagerly.

She nodded "Ms Smith" and turning to the man "Mr Sprucify." There was an awkward silence as the two looked at each other, confused. Well, she'd hardly expected them to remember her, let alone her name. Millicent intervened to smooth the silence over "Please call me Millicent"

"Oh I am Prunella," said the witch "and he's Spencer" poking the tall wizard in the ribs. He bent over in pain but still managed to croak out "Won't you join us for tea?"

"I'm afraid I can't stay - I have an interview in a few minutes" she demurred.

"Ah we mustn't keep you," said Prunella. "But we really wanted to talk to you. You see we are both struggling with potions. Toots commissioned 20 batches of my potion and none of them work!"

"And I'm working with Madam Primpernelle, she had set up this hair tonic for a customer but when I went to bottle it the whole thing nearly blew up - I just managed to cover the cauldron in time." Sprucify wailed.

"We were hoping you could help us?" Asked Prunella

"Think of it as giving potion lessons," said Sprucify. "We'll pay you."

Millicent felt a wave of cold anger go through her. Both had smooth pathways to being Potion Masters, but it was her, who would probably never be one, they expected lessons from! She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. They were just children.

"I don't know if I'll be able to spare the time," She said quietly "the position I'm interviewing for is a full-time one and I doubt they will be okay with me moonlighting as a potions tutor"

They both looked utterly crestfallen. Don't burn bridges, the least followed Slytherin rule, hissed in her mind.

"But if you are making all 20 batches in one oversized cauldron," she said to Prunella "then you'll have to recalculate the times at which you stir - it takes longer for the potion to move from stage to stage because of the increased mass. It would be easier to do it in smaller batches"

The small witch nodded eagerly but before she could thank her Milicent turned to Sprucify. "If the hair tonic had ashwinder eggs and you stirred it before bottling it would become volatile. I'm afraid you'll have to scrape it but next time just bottle it directly without stirring"

"Thank you!" They both chorused. Prunella took out two galleons to pay for their tea and put it on the table. At the sight of the money Millicent's stomach clenched. "I must be off. Good luck with your interview." Prunella continued, oblivious.

Sprucify walked with Millicent down Diagon Alley. "You should have been made a Potion Master," he said diffidently. "Prue thinks so too. You know more about potions than we do."

Millicent said nothing, her entire focus on keeping her temper.

"You know old Toots isn't a bad sort. I'm sure Prue can put a word in -"

"That won't be necessary" Millicent quickly interrupted. "I'll be okay" her face moved in the unfamiliar rictus of an artificial smile. "Really" she added.

"If you say so," said Sprucify, looking distinctly unconvinced. "Well, this is me." They had walked to a garishly pink shop front. "Good luck with your interview!"

Millicent walked on, enjoying the few moments of quiet before stopping at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop front. Her stomach clenched again and her heartbeat was too loud. Looking into the shop windows she could see her reflection fading into a dark shadow. Stop it! She thought. 

Taking a deep breath she pushed open the shop door. Inside was chaos, colours screamed at her and items flew up and down all over the place. To her right, something noxious appeared to have exploded, and to her left several instruments clashed with each other in a cacophony of tunes. The sheer noise of the place shocked her out of her nerves and she grabbed the shoulder of the nearby maroon robed wizard.

A much older Ron Weasley stared down at her. "I've come for the interview," she yelled to make herself heard above the noise.

"What?" He shouted back.

She took a deep breath and screamed "interview" just as the noise of the screeching instruments was cut off by a wave of Ron's wand. Her voice echoed around the shop, lingering for far longer than Millicent expected.

"Cool effect," Ron said. "Wonder if we could sell it. Could it call it The Echo-o-o Cave."

He stopped and gave an embarrassed cough. "Right this way" pointing to a small plain door at the opposite end of the shop. "It's easier to talk in the backroom."

He walked towards the door and Millicent followed feeling like a large dark presence amidst all the colour of the shop floor.

At the door he paused and peered confusedly back at her. She gave herself a mental shake and held back the notice-me-not glamour.

"Ahh there you are," said Ron. "George is getting lunch ready for us."

The backroom was dominated by George Weasley - maroon robes, green dragonhide boots, lilac apron and splatters of flour, pink icing and blue food colouring. There were more colours on him, thought Millicent faintly, than in the whole of the shack that she had left this morning. 

"Ahh, Millicent! Just getting lunch ready" he said jovially. 

Ron acciod away some of the detritus from the chairs around the table and gestured for her to sit. As she approached the table, though, her eye caught a large bag stuffed with dragon parts. "Are those potion ingredients?" She asked. "They should be under a preservation charm."

Ron and George exchanged a look. "Charlie had mentioned something about putting them in preservation," George said. 

"Well, that's easy enough to do." Ron acciod a large glass jar, tinted pink from various protection and preservation charms and carefully set it over the large chest.

Millicent was envious of his control. It was a delicate piece of magic, all too easy to set it down too roughly and have it crashing into the fragile ingredients. Yet it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest - perhaps there was more to him than just being Potter's friend.

"So Millicent" Ron said as he sat down at the table and gestured at her to sit. "What have you been up to since Hogwarts?"

She sat down. "After my 8th year, I enrolled in a postgraduate course in charms at Beauxbatons. I stayed on for 5 years researching the Flamel archives and teaching the younger children potions. Unfortunately, funding for the position dried out and I had to move on."

"So you didn't study potions?" Asked Ron

"Not then. I went to Durmstrang next and that's where I studied potions under Regulus Moonshine."

Ron stiffened at that. She continued quickly "I moved with him to Hungary - that's where I got my Potions Master certificate"

"Didn't Moonshine work with hags?" Ron asked.

"Yes," she answered shortly. "In Hungary, I started my own -"

"Wasn't his work something about controlling their cravings for human flesh?" Ron interrupted.

She nodded. "I wasn't involved with his initial research." There - not a lie, but hopefully misleading enough to get him off the topic.

"Hmm," said Ron thoughtfully.

"As I was saying, in Hungary I ran my own apothecary. It was quite successful but unfortunately, the new immigration laws meant I couldn't continue."

"What did you sell at the apothecary?" George asked as he directed plates to the table.

"Mostly healing potions, the Flamels' work was very useful with those. But also the usual beauty and cleaning potions. And the occasional bespoke potion" she answered.

"All made in-house?"

"Of course!" She replied.

"So you have experience running a shop?" Asked Ron, who was now helping his brother bring in the dishes.

"Not on the shop floor - I handled the back end - you know making the potions, obtaining ingredients, handling the accounts and all." She answered.

"Well we are hardly hiring you for customer service," laughed George. "Custard cream?"

She remembered those. "Thank you I'd prefer a digestive" And plucked a biscuit out of the unopened packet.

Nothing thankfully happened as she chewed the crumbly biscuit. This lunch was going to be a minefield in more than one way she saw.

"If we hire you," said Ron, handing her a butterbeer "we'll be expecting you to make large batches of potions - enough for 40-50 units at a time. Is that possible?"

She nodded. "I'd make them in smaller batches of 5 in staggered intervals," she said, as she went to take a swig of her butterbeer. Before drinking it she stopped noting the slight green tint to it. "I'll pass on the butterbeer too." 

George groaned. "What gave it away?"

"The green tint" she answered. "You could use mooncalf milk to disguise it."

"Hmm," said Ron "will raise the cost by 2 sickles"

"People will buy it," said George confidently. "Well Millicent you certainly know your potions."

"Thank you," she said hesistantly, uncertain as to where this was going.

"And while that will be a great help fine-tuning our newest products, we are-" he stopped, uncertainly looking around.

Merlin's bollocks she was no better than a kit! She restrained herself again. 

"You are?" She asked.

"Ahh yes .." George blinked "we are looking for a potioneer who can help add new items to our sales line."

"My work blends charms and potions," Millicent said "there are many applications for that but I haven't, in all honesty, worked on jokes and pranks"

The two nodded unsurprised. The rest of the lunch continued in this vein. The brothers would try to slip her prank food in between asking her serious questions about her work as a potioneer. She answered them as honestly as she could. She knew that it would have been easy to twist things a little and make sure they went her way. But she rankled at doing so, Snape had all but ordered her to work for them and while she wasn't foolish enough to go against him nor was she so cowed down that she'd go along with him unresisting.

Not that it was hurting her chances. Both George and Ron Weasley seemed impressed, even if the later still seemed a bit reluctant.

As the trio finished the meal over a rhubarb tart (no prank involved, thankfully) George spoke: "We'd like you to start as soon as possible. Would tomorrow be okay?"

She nodded. "From 9 am to 5 pm?" 

"Yes, that's fine. Weekends are off as are all the main holidays" said Ron. "Let me just get you a copy of the contract. Read it over and we'll sign tomorrow."

She nodded. As he went through his desk an owl darted against the window. George let it in. The owl landed in the middle of the table looking around confusedly.

"I think it's for you," he said.

Confused Milicent took the envelope sealed with a monograph of SIMO. She opened it and read the bold text ordering her to report to the suspicious individual monitoring office (SIMO for short) within 48 hours of receiving the owl. Turning bright red, she hurriedly stuffed it in her robe pocket, trying to be inconspicuous as possible.

"Millicent?" Asked Ron questioningly.

"Yes?" she said still flustered. 

He held out a price of parchment. "The contract?"

She quickly grabbed it. "Thank you I'll look it over and be back with it tomorrow. Goodbye!"

"See you soon," George said still perplexed. "I suppose" he mumbled.

Millicent gave them a quick smile and rushed out. The closing door was the only sign she had gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six chapters in and they finally meet! This really is a slow burn

Charlie ran out of the Burrow, one hand holding a piece of toast and the other buttoning his robe. He loved his mum but Merlin did that woman nag. Having spent all of Monday being a dutiful son, he was glad that he had an excuse to leave the house and not be pulled into decorating for Bill's party.

With an evil grin, he decided to apparate straight into George's workshop. It would be a small prank in repayment for all the frights the twins had inflicted over the years, randomly apparating all over the place. As expected, he apparated to the sound of breaking potions equipment. Wide grin firmly on his face, Charlie turned around only to see an empty, shadowy room.

One breath, and then another but Charlie stood still, toast tucked in his coat pocket, hand clutching wand, his instincts warring with his eyes. There was someone there. 10 cauldrons stood alit, in two neat rows. George would never leave them unattended but nor was there the typical mess that accompanied his usual potion-making. The whole place seemed scrubbed clean, even the stonework of the walls gleamed when what little light there was in the room glanced over them.

Approaching the cauldron his eyes kept skipping over, Charlie watched as the shadows deepened and the overwhelming desire to leave increased. He forced himself forward and said "Hi"

"Hello" answered a confused voice. Now Charlie could see the faint outlines of a figure in the shadows.

He put his hand out. "You must be Millicent"

"Yes" answered the voice. There was a pause and then a shadow that might just be a hand came out to hold his. There was something extraordinarily intimate in the act - not quite a shake, but not holding hands either. To Charlie it felt like he was holding a newborn hatchling - deceptively delicate but with an iron core, unseen but sensed at the base of his spine.

He must have been holding her hand for too long because she slowly withdrew it, hesitantly, casting a wandless lumos while doing so. In the weak light, he could make out her black robe, dark hair and pale skin that flushed easily. But, despite these observations, he realised with some disconcertion, he didn't know what she looked like, not enough to recognize her if she walked past him in the street.

"And which Weasley brother are you?" Her voice was low, and matter of fact. Resoundingly prosaic for such a mysterious figure.

"Charlie" he answered. A ting, like a dropped spoon, sounded. She was now even more visible; he could make out her sharp serious eyes steadily looking at him. She doesn't, he realised, know that she's doing it - an unconscious notice-me-not that strengthens when you are distressed. She must be very powerful to maintain such a spell.

"And you are the new potioneer my brothers have hired," he said.

"Yes," she confirmed, "it's my first day."

"Welcome to the family then" he smiled. "We'll grow on you"

She gave him a hesitant smile "Like a fungus?"

It surprised him into a full-blown laugh. So she wasn't all timid then. "If we do, I'm sure you will just scrape us off" gesturing to the newly cleaned workshop.

She looked around "Potions are very delicate substances. Although, cross-contamination can sometimes result in happy accidents."

"Can it?" He asked, curious.

"Yes, a crup sneezed into a fire-breathing potion at just the right point, resulting in this," she said, pointing to the potion in her cauldron.

"And what does it do?" He asked, noting how she was becoming more and more visible.

"Give you a dog's breath instead of fire". They both laughed. 

"I wonder if it would work on a dragon" he mused.

She made a face "It contains dragon's horn. A bit canabi-"

"Charlie?" Ron's voice came from upstairs sounding highly confused.

"Down here" he answered back as he watched Milicent once again start to fade into the shadows. She busied herself with a bunch of glassware, piling them up on her workbench like a barrier.

"I'm glad to have met you," he said quickly as Ron's stomping feet came down the staircase. She looked up surprised "I hope-"

"Charlie stop distracting the new potioneer," cried Ron. He grabbed Charlie's arm and started pulling him upstairs, turning back to casually say "Sorry Millicent, we'll get out of your hair"

"That was rude" Charlie hissed when they were up in the office and the door was closed.

Ron frowned. "I said sorry, didn't I?"

"No," Charlie started. "You-

"Charlie! When did you get in?" George interrupted as he came in from the shop floor covered with purple icing. "Listen, I have this great idea for a series of joke cakes - carrot cake that gives you buck teeth, a Victorian sponge that tries to clean your mouth out - a variation on mum's spell, Ron. You know the one." 

"Oh the scouring charm, she would use when we swore?"

"That's right" confirmed George. "I have a ton of ideas - what do you think?"

"You could do a red velvet that puts you in those hideous dress robes that Ron used to wear," said Charlie.

"Uggh." Groaned Ron, just as George exclaimed "Brilliant! We'll get them to sing 'Weasley's king" too."

As they exchanged ideas, Charlie rummaged around in his pockets, shooting a look of disgust at the flint covered toast before finding two thick scrolls of parchment.

'Here are your to-do lists from Mum" he said handing them over. Both of them groaned before taking the lists. 

"Why is she going all out?" Complained Ron. "It's just a birthday!" It had been bothering Charlie too, with so many of them, birthdays tended to be no more elaborate than dinner at the Burrow with as many of them that could make it. Yet suddenly Molly had gone all out, cleaning all the barely touched corners of the Burrow, hiring a house-elf to help with the cooking and dictating long things-to-do list for each of her children. His included items like getting a haircut, formal robes, and 14 long-stemmed beating heart blooms - the latest hybrid from the Toots nursery centre.

"Don't know." He shrugged. "I've got to get on my list. You two don't procrastinate too much. You know how Mum gets." They waved good-bye and Charlie stepped out into Diagon Alley.

It was noon by the time Charlie got back to the shop, his arms laden with packages. He had got the hair tonic from Madam Pimpernelle, picked up the flowers from Toots and then stopped at Quality Quidditch Supplies spending far more galleons and time there than intended.

Inside the shop, Ron was glumly charming napkins to fold into swans and dance. "Charlie help!" He cried "We've got no work done today because of Mum's list!"

As he complained Ginny came in, giving Charlie a hug as she did so. "You have no room to complain," she said to Ron, "she's been after me to charm all the cutlery in the Burrow"

"What dance is this, Ron" asked Charlie, watching the napkin swans go round in dramatic circles.

"Swan Lake" answered Ron "it's a muggle dance thing - saw it with Mione and her parents. You all dress up in these tuxenos and ball dresses and watch it"

Ginny sniffed "Looks kind of dull to me"

An idea struck Charlie and sharing a mischievous grin with Ginny he cast a charm on the napkins. The swans started dropping white splatters across the table. Ginny laughed delighted. "Shitting swans - perfect, Charlie"

"No perfect" said Ron accioing account books and other table detritus out of the way. "What's mum going to say when her treacle tarts are decorated with swan napkin shit?"

At this point, George entered the room carrying a large tray of red velvet cake. "Volunteers?" He asked hopefully.

As the other two groaned, Charlie stepped forward - breakfast had been small and he was famished. Taking a slice, he watched as his robes turned into a moth-eaten velvet with frills of lace sprouting from every seam. But they remained the serviceable black that he had shrugged on in the morning. 

"Needs fine-tuning," grumbled George.

Ginny fired off a colour changing charm at Charlie's robes and frowned as the robes stayed the same black. Frowning she cast the same spell on the swans who now started shitting neon pink streaks. 

"Nice!" Said George distracted. "We could sell these with the cakes"

"A high tea prank set," said Ron, his eyes lit up with excitement. 

"But what about tonight's birthday party?" asked Charlie.

"Oh, it won't be an issue sneaking in a few." Said George looking at the napkins.

The other three siblings shared commiserating glances. 

"Speaking of which," continued George, pulling out his list. "Who's the lady-friend, Charlie?" 

"I said ask subtly" a tiny voice screamed from the parchment.

"What lady friend?" Asked Charlie confused.

At this Ron spoke up "You know the one you are inviting to today's party"

"Oh that's just Luna," Charlie said.

"Luna!" Exclaimed Ginny. "I need to tell mum. Wait, Charlie, you know she's married right?"

"Yes" answered Charlie confused "Rolf is a great guy, he spent a couple of years at the reservation-"

But she was already walking away, bending down over the fireplace. Ron and George followed. Charlie shrugged helplessly as they floo-called the Burrow, and decided to reset his robes, tidy up a little and go through his to-do list while he waited. After a bit, he heard his mother shout "What". More hushed whispering followed and then to his astonishment his to-do list shrank, items disappearing off it until only one remained "get a haircut" newly underlined in red.

"Well that's been taken care off," said Ginny, as she came back to the work table.

"My to-do list has shrunk down to just one item," Charlie questioned. 

"Ahh she was using our self-updating to-do lists" explained Ron. Charlie looked at him bemused "It was a present for Mione. But it became surprisingly popular so we started selling it as part of our desk range"

"We made a joke version to" assured George. 

Charlie shook his head, and he conjured up a mirror to look at his hair. He normally cut it cropped close to avoid catching on fire but over the past few months, the lack of any interaction with dragons meant that he had inadvertently let it grow out. He had liked the longer hair and how it fell in soft waves across his forehead but he guessed it wasn't really practical.

"Can I use these?" A voice interrupted his musings. All four of the Weasley's jumped. Hastily vanishing the mirror, he turned to see Milicent looking at one of his beating heart blooms.

"It may work better at holding colour than the madder root we used in the last batch." She continued, looking at George.

"You don't mind, do you, Charlie?" George asked.

"N-no" stammered Charlie, still shocked at her appearance "it's one of Toot's hybrids if you want more"

She nodded and gathered the blossoms, taking them down with her in the potions lab.

"When did she get here?" asked Ginny confused.

"She's quiet," said George quickly as Ron shrugged.

Ginny looked after the witch suspiciously. "We could always hear her stampeding back in sixth year." She shrugged, trying to look unaffected by the sudden memory. "The Carrows used to yell at her for that."

She shrugged as if she was trying to cast off an unpleasant memory. "Anyway," she turned to Charlie. "Come on you, time for a haircut." 

\----

The party was in full swing by the time Charlie and Ginny got in. Various nephews and nieces were running to and fro and Charlie quickly made himself popular by distributing his haul of quidditch supplies and telling tales of dragons. Pretty soon though the younger ones started nodding off and were rustled off to bed.

Deprived of his audience, Charlie went into the kitchen, only to come upon his mother and George.

"-and I don't care if you are the baking champion of the whole of Britain! Out!" Shouted Molly and George ran out chased by a flying iron ladle.

"Here," he panted as he gave Charlie a tray of richly decorated pastries. "Find a way to sneak these in please."

Charlie looked down at the tray and, after a moment's thought, transfigured it to a vase - each pastry turning into a bloom.

"I said out! Oh, it's you, Charlie." Molly said distractedly.

"Just dropping off some flowers, Mum," he said, putting the vase down near the desserts. Once out of her sight he dropped the spell and let the tray reappear, where it merged seamlessly with the other desserts.

He went out again to the backyard where Harry and Ron were arranging the four dining tables. Luna stood nearby talking to Ginny and casting the occasional spell at the stray garden gnome sneaking in. The ones hit were festooned in silver jackets and scarves.

"Don't garden gnomes hibernate during winter?" he asked as he approached the two girls. 

"They do" confirmed Ginny "but they like Luna's yule present so they are waking up and coming"

"It keeps them warm," Luna explained.

"Thank you for coming, Luna," said Charlie.

She nodded at him earnestly. But before she could say anything George enthusiastically called them for dinner.

Dinner went well, they celebrated Bill's birthday party in the typical boisterous Weasley fashion. At dessert, Charlie purposefully picked the red velvet slice with a wink to Ginny and watched as his robes turned a maroon velvet with neon green lace. Under the cover of the laughter, he congratulated George on the neon lace. 

"It was accidental! A side effect of the beating hearts" he explained "but I liked how it looked. Millicent's quite taken by the beating hearts by the way" 

Charlie nodded, and in the next lull in the conversation, he caught his mother's eye.

Molly Weasley cleared her throat "Charlie-dear, has an announcement."

Before he could say anything George jumped in. "Ron and I hired a new potioneer for the shop. It's Millicent Bulstrode. Charlie thinks we have to be wary of her"

There was a collective murmur of dismay. Harry and Hermione looked particularly unhappy.

"Couldn't you get someone else?" Asked Arthur warily.

"Charlie seems to think we owe her for saving mum." Said Ron. There was a clutter of dropped spoons to this.

"Even if she hadn't," continued George. "I would hire her. She's very good at her work - she made more dogsbreath candy today then I can in a month while helping me fine-tune our new line of cakes."

Ron nodded "And her miniature potions are genius"

"Miniature potions" questioned Hermione.

"Yeah, they are these tiny balls, smaller than a knut and completely round but they work just like normal potions"

"Like pills!" Exclaimed Harry.

"Potion pills!" Chimed in Hermione.

The rest of the family looked at them confused. "They are a muggle thing" explained Hermione with a patient expression. "It's how they take medicines, swallow a pill down with some water."

"Ahh," said Arthur "to activate the potion inside, so clever these muggles"

"That's not quite how it works" 

Molly cast a quelling look at her husband. "Why do we have to be wary of her Charlie? And what's this about her saving me?"

"I asked Luna to come, to help me explain…" he looked at Luna who just nodded but didn't say anything. "I guess I should explain from the start - so when I was doing my final studies on dragon habitats I came across this idea of wild magic."

At this Molly uncharacteristically dropped her plate "sorry" she murmured.

Looking at her with some concern, Charlie continued. "You see dragons don't make any sense without huge magical reservoirs. Just unfolding their wings is a complex mix of expansion charms and transfiguration, flying requires them to do at least Wingardium Leviosa, weightless charm, and apparition simultaneously! Yet they don't have wands or voices. They are truly a marvel!"

"Okay little brother, we don't need another one of your lectures on the miracle of dragons," interrupted Bill.

Charlie glared at him. "Anyway, as I was saying dragons are amazing," ignoring the sigh from Bill with a glare."Harvey Ridgebit theorised that they use something he called wild magic - powerful forces of magic that don't work as regular magic does. Other magizoologists found that every magical creature has access to this wild magic to a greater or lesser degree. Which raises the question of wild magic emerging in regular witches and wizards through interbreeding"

"So you think that Millicent is like Hagrid or Fleur - half creature and half witch?" Asked Ron. "That's not anything to be wary about!"

"It depends. Which creature?" Hermione added. 

"I bet it's a hag," said Ron in a low whisper that carried across the table. Suddenly his treacle tart burst into flame and a jar of cream upturned over his head. Ginny glared as she put away her wand. Charlie though looked at his mother, he had thought it was her who had upturned the cream but her hand was nowhere near her wand.

Luna interrupted "Go on with your story"

"At the sanctuary," Charlie continued. "We are trained to detect wild magic. Large build-ups warn you when a dragon is going to flame or unfurl its wings or whatever."

Hermione looked interested at this but before she could ask, Charlie went on with his story. "At the final battle, I was with the dragons overhead and was monitoring the wild magic - trying to stop Voldemort's creatures before they launched their attacks." At this, he closed his eyes. It hadn't helped Fred or Tonks… but before he could continue to go down this line of thought, George briefly squeezed his shoulder.

"Anyway," he said pulling himself together "I can always sense Mum." At this all the siblings nodded - it was an odd quirk that they had all used to avoid being snuck up on as teenagers. "And I felt a large pool of wild magic building near her. So I rushed over on Norberta and saw it was building around a tall Slytherin girl - Millicent. I sped to stop her but she cast something before I could get to her. Thankfully it wasn't aimed at mum but at Bellatrix. I don't know how to describe it - I've never seen a spell do something like that - but it slowed her down and let mum's spell hit her first."

At this point, he paused and took a sip from his butterbeer. "I knew we owed her so I testified on her behalf in the death eater trials. After that, I forgot about it until I ran into Luna in a magizoologist conference."

Luna nodded "I was presenting a paper on the effect of the final battle on Hogwarts' flora and fauna."

Looking at the mystified looks, Charlie interjected: "It caught my attention because she theorized that a new use of wild magic in the battle had inadvertently resulted in the speeding up of plant growth and animal breeding cycles."

"We talked after the presentation and Charlie told me about Millicent. I realized that she was more than just another descendent-"

"What's a descendent?" Asked Ginny 

"We are," said Molly, her face pale. 

They all turned to look at her but it was Luna who spoke. "Yes, I thought you were. We - the Weasley's and I, that is - have a common ancestor."

"And that's Grandmere?" Asked Charlie.

"Yes." Said Luna "Charlie asked me who she was. And it's hard to explain. She's ancient - older than Merlin."

"But she's still around?" Ron said grimly.

Charlie felt himself nodding, automatically. 

"Her power is not something we can fathom - what she can do. Well, you can't even call it magic, it's so advanced."

"She's like a god?" Asked George.

"No, her children are like gods. She's unfathomable"

Bill protested "I know we are powerful witches and wizards but we are not so powerful that we could be called gods"

"You are descendants, not children," corrected Luna. "Her grandchildren are extremely powerful but cursed witches"

At this, there was a clamour. "Cursed?" cried out Hermione. 

"Witches?" asked Ginny. 

"Her grandchildren ARE?" Questioned Molly.

"Yes, I think Millicent is a grandchild" answered Luna.

"I thought all the aunts were dead" whispered Molly

"Aunts! Mum, what is going on?" Protested Percy.

"Do any of you remember your grandmother Prewett? Bill, you were in your first year at Hogwarts when she died."

Bill nodded. "Of course I do." He frowned "She was very powerful - all those wandless spells."

"Yes," Charlie chimed in "I remember her kitchen had more spells going on than in the shop. All non-verbal, all wandless"

Molly smiled sadly. "Yes, she was amazing, especially with cooking spells. She was also a grandchild of Grandmere. That's part of why she was so talented."

"Was she cursed?" Prompted Ginny. 

"Yes," sighed Molly "Do you remember Charlie? Bill was in Hogwarts and the rest of you would be too young to remember"

Charlie searched his memories to the years before he started at Hogwarts. "Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon had died and Grandma was … was… upset… more than upset, she didn't say anything but you knew.."

"Yes," Molly said wiping her tears with a handkerchief "The curse of sacrifice I knew then that…" She started crying. Arthur patted her arm and spoke to her softly.

Luna cleared her throat "The grandchildren are all women. They take three forms - the maiden, the mother - which was probably your grandmother, and the hag."

There was silence.

"They aren't actually hags, any more than the maidens are veelas," she said with a nod at Fleur "but they share attributes."

"Do they?" Asked Charlie "I don't know about any of you but I've never got a good look of Millicent, I recognize her through her magic more than looks."

"Of course we have!" Objected Hermione "she's this tall, looming presence - you can't miss her"

At this Ron squirmed "Actually she's kind of nondescript, and shy."

George nodded "She's quiet and easy to forget"

Ginny frowned. "I had thought her to be loud and clumsy at Hogwarts but she's the opposite of that now."

"You remember how she makes you feel in detail," said Charlie "But what colour are her eyes? The shape of her nose? What type of chin does she have?"

"She's tall, big, pale and has dark hair," George said slowly.

"That could describe a thousand witches" Charlie sighed.

Molly interjected: "I met her once, you know, Grandmere. She was never in one shape, it made me queasy seeing her change shape constantly. Maybe this Millicent is like that?"

Charlie shrugged. " A shapeshifter then?"

"You knew this," accused Ron "That's why you were so interested in the polyjuice and Mione turning into a weird cat girl"

"I suspected," answered Charlie "There was so much wild magic around Millicent that night, I knew she wasn't human. Yet there were no physical signs that she was anything but a human witch. That's not how creature-wizard interbreeding works. Shapeshifting was the only explanation that fits."

"But mum looks human," protested Percy

"I am mostly human" Molly confirmed, "but this red hair that you all have and most of your children have. It's actually a recessive trait. The fact that it appears in us so often is because of Grandmere"

"Why are her grandchildren cursed?" Asked Ginny.

"We don't know" answered Luna, "My mother would say it was grandmere's punishment."

"So they all have to sacrifice something" asked Hermione

"No, it's just the mother's have the curse of sacrifice. The maiden's have the curse of illusion and the hags have the curse of loneliness." Luna answered.

"My mother," she continued, "was a maiden. The curse of illusion killed her. She was never quite sure what she was seeing, or how she was being seen. We think that's why she misjudged the spell that killed her."

The family was silent, not knowing quite what to say "It goes through the bloodline, you know." She went on conversationally. "Weakening with every generation. For me, it's been an asset - it's made me look underneath the visible, the apparent."

Hermione sniffed. But the rest of the family was looking at Molly who was crying softly again into her handkerchief. "Yes, Fred's my sacrifice"

George got up and walked away. The rest of them stayed sitting silently. "I'll go and get him," said Percy, getting up.

"No, I'll go," said Arthur leaving the table.

Harry nervously cleared his throat "So Grandmere does she have some sort of vendetta against her descendents?" At the questioning looks, he elaborated "You know what with her cursing all her grandchildren."

Luna shrugged "As I said she's unfathomable. She hunted down and killed all her children over the millennia. She cursed her grandchildren so drastically that only one is still alive and the legacy of that curse continues to tick in her descendants. Yet, it's a family unit. She's Grandmere, Millicent is Molly's and my aunt. Your great aunt"

"You said to be wary," said Ron looking at Charlie.

"She takes a deep interest in her grandchildren and Milicent is the only one left. As people in Millicent's life she'll be watching you," Luna explained.

"So basically don't offend Millicent or her scary grandmother will get revenge," Ron said.

Charlie hesitated and looked at Luna. "From what I understand what you find offensive, isn't necessarily what Grandmere will find offensive"

"That's why you have the pure-blood manners," said Molly.

"What are they?" Asked Hermione.

"Seven rules." Answered Molly. "Bill"

He sighed before reciting "Rule one: remember your manners, and remember who you are descended from. Rule two: remember your manners, and don't bother others. Rule three: remember your manners, and pay your debts. Rule four: remember your manners, and send a token of your regard. Rule five: remember your manners, and don't insult by giving less than your worth. Rule six: remember your manners, and don't ask for a favour. Rule seven: remember your manners, and never say what you want"

Hermione took a deep breath and said: "That is incredibly-"

"Creepy" interrupted Harry.

"I was going to say vague," said Hermione.

"They are, aren't they?" Luna smiled "but it's easy enough to apply"

Charlie thought about it " Rule one: remember your manners, and remember who you are descended from. That just means remember Grandmere"

"Yes," she nodded. 

"We haven't though," said Percy. "We didn't know about her."

"But you remember her now," Molly assured him. "Past, future and present exist simultaneously for Grandmere, so she won't hold it against you."

"Rule two: remember your manners, and don't bother others." Charlie continued. "Well that's got me stumped"

"It's her name" Molly clarified "when you say it, it catches her attention. Grandma Prewitt always said she gets grumpy if you keep saying her name. Like ringing a doorbell constantly."

"But we have been," said Hermione, "through the whole night - we must have said it at least a dozen times."

"Oh she's paying attention to us anyway," Luna explained. "So it doesn't really count"

"The third rule definitely counts - repay your debts." Replied Charlie "This is the life debt we have with Millicent."

"The fact that you recognize the obligation counts. All these acts - testifying for her, giving her a job. It's repaying it" Luna assured.

"And the fourth and fifth - give a token, that's not below our worth?" Ron asked. "We are altogether one of the richest families in the wizarding world, but it's all invested."

"I think" Harry interrupted "the Weasely's worth is greatest in their friendship."

Charlie smiled at him. "I suppose we could be a friend to Millicent, and grandmere through her."

Luna nodded sagely. "That seems generous enough to me."

"Sixth is not to ask for a favour - well that's easy enough." Said Ginny. 

Ron disagreed "We are always asking Milicent to do things - it could be taken as asking for a favour or telling her what we want"

"These two are for Grandmere herself" explained Molly. "You can't ask her to use her powers to do you a favour, not without giving a sacrifice first"

"Yes," said Luna. "And if she asks you what you want, don't say anything because she can twist even the most benign wish into something terrible."

"How is that you know so much about this, Luna?' asked Ginny. 

"Some of it my mother told me, most I found later in a journal she kept, and others from various descendants I have met. Did you know Snape was one?"

"Snape?" Exclaimed Harry.

"Yes, I think his mother was also a hag like Millicent. I asked him once about it and he yelled at me to shut up." Luna said nostalgically.

"So even the hags marry and have children?" Hermione questioned

"They all do" Molly answered "but they mostly have tragic lives, especially the hags. From your stories, Harry, I think Voldemort's mother was a hag too."

"That makes sense," said Harry "She must have used her powers to make that love potion she slipped to his father."

"And got punished for it" Luna said quietly.

By now the cold night was pressing into them, despite the warming charms., Charlie took a deep breath and said "We should go in, I've told you all I know. Everything else is just speculation."

The others nodded and the night came to a sombre end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an alternative universe, George would sneak in as a contestant to Great British Bake-off and steal Noel Fielding 's heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Millicent stepped out into the cold dark evening. Casting a warming spell she could hear Hoopy the house-elf to bolt the door behind her. The Weasley brothers had left hours earlier, leaving her and Hoopy to clean up the shop the best they could.

All in all, Millicent thought as she walked briskly down Diagon Alley, it had been a good first day. George had put her straight to work, telling her he desperately needed bucketloads of dogsbreath potion after suddenly selling out of their new prank "best breath mints." Despite the urgency, she had taken one look at the messy potion lab and immediately started cleaning it. Luckily underneath the chaos was an eccentric but logical system of organisation and she soon got onto brewing the vast quantities he required.

It had been a bad moment when the elder brother, Charlie suddenly apparated in. She had strengthened her notice me not charm to its limit, and stood silent, holding her breath, watching as he looked around. When he turned to approach her despite all her defences she had been the most terrified she had been since the second wizarding war. She thought he'd attack her, sure that his brothers wouldn't have told their family about the new hire, and that this Weasley hero would only see a suspicious Slytherin interloper. She should have apparated away but she had frozen.

But, it hadn't mattered, because he had been open, and friendly and, just … kind. He welcomed her - sincerely, too! Such a gryffindorish act! Millicent would never be able to be so earnest, her actions and thoughts always tainted with a deep cynicism. But Charlie had shaken her hand, laughed at her lame joke, took an interest in what she had to say with no apparent agenda… it was all so strange. People normally engaged with her only when they wanted something from her or wanted to hurt her.

At this thought, her steps faltered. Kindness wasn't something the types of her encountered but surely it was commonplace for him, for his family. She shouldn't, she thought furiously, make so much of this - it was walking on thin ice. Breathing deeply she remembered her old occlumency lessons, casting shields around her thoughts of Charlie Weasley, partitioning him off from the rest of her mind.

This done, she looked around herself, she had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had wandered off into one of the side streets from Diagon Alley. She didn't recognize this one - all verdant and scented despite it being winter. She felt for her wand, thinking a point me spell would reorient herself but before she could she felt her arm grabbed and was pulled behind some unseasonally blooming hibiscus bushes. 

"What are you doing here?" Exclaimed Prunella Smith "don't you know Slytherins aren't welcome here?"

Millicent pulled herself to her full height "I wasn't aware that parts of the wizarding world were out-of-bounds for Slytherins" she said, looming over the short witch. "Surely such blatant discrimination is illegal."

"Well I don't know about the legality and such" Prunella replied, "but Toots and Diggory have made it clear that no Slytherins are welcome in Herbology lane."

Millicent sighed, there was no point fighting. "Fine, I'll apparate away."

"No wait" Prunella cried. "I wanted to thank you - I got the potions made for Toots because of your help."

Millicent nodded in acknowledgement but Prunella went on before she could say anything. "I know I owe you one. If you ever need a favour, just send me an owl."

"Thank you," said Millicent, feeling awkward. "I'll owl if anything occurs to me. But I should get going now."

Prunella nodded and Millicent apparated to the middle of Diagon Alley. A quick tempus told her it was 5.30. She had to hurry if she wanted to get to the SIMO office before it closed.

She quickly walked down the lane and entered the SIMO's headquarters, housed in a dumpy-looking building. Inside, the office was dominated by a large painting of the current Director. Cormac McLaggen, she recognized, with some dismay - the typical bully Gryffindor. The office was quite deserted - four desks stood in a row, each with a bored witch or wizard behind it. Two sat listlessly playing a game of exploding snap, the third read the Daily Prophet and the fourth appeared to be taking earwax out with his wand. The wireless blared an old Celestina Warbeck song. A peeling poster entreated its viewers to "Prevent a third wizarding war! Volunteer!" The whole place seemed unbearably dreary and dull. 

Millicent carefully calibrated herself to appear visible but inoffensive, drab and altogether unworthy of attention. Then she approached the desk with the fourth attendant.

"Millicent Bulstrode, reporting for monitoring," she said monotonously.

"Wand," yawned the wizard at the desk, as he idly accio'd her card.

She put her wand on the desk and waited. The wizard, though jumped as he got the card. Turning around and peering at her closely, he yelled: "It's you - we've been trying to get a hold of you for almost a week! I must have sent a half-a-dozen owls! How did you escape the monitoring notifications?"

The noise was attracting all too much attention - the witch with the Daily Prophet set it down, while the exploding snap players paused their game, looking towards them. This is Grandmere, she thought, she must have masked me!

"I-i don't know" she stammered, as she subtly transfigured the card to spell her name as Milicent, not Millicent. "Perhaps there was a misspelling of my name?"

"Misspelling!" the wizard roared, red in his face. The witch had now got up and was coming towards them.

"Yes, it's Millicent - with a double L. It's a common mistake" she said desperately trying to look inoffensive.

His eyes unwillingly looked down onto her card. He gave a gruff cough. "So it is". The card players went back to their game. But the witch continued to look at her. Casting a glance at her, the desk attendant smoothed back his hair. He then looked at Millicent suspiciously and made it a point to show how carefully he was reading her card. "Huh says a Weasley vouched for you after the second Wizarding war"

She nodded.

"Says here you fought against Vold-e-mort" he drawled.

This was an old trick for the monitoring staff - say the Dark Lord's name and watch the Slytherins jump - but it was one she had become long accustomed, thanks to in the initial days of monitoring after the second wizarding war.

"I'm a half-blood. And you know what Voldemort wanted to do us with our kind," she said evenly to him.

"Humph," he said disappointed "still the hat put you in Slytherin. I don't buy this propaganda about Slytherin allies."

"That's right, Nigel," said the witch encouragingly. He puffed up and said "I'm keeping a close eye on you" he paused to look at her name "Millicent"

She nodded. 

"Wand" he barked. 

Millicent hesitated and pointed at the wand on his desk.

"Ah yes," he splattered confused. The witch rolled her eyes and started heading back to her desk. 

"Prior Incantato," he said furiously.

Millicent watched as the images of a clock showing the time, countless potion equipment items being scrubbed clean, a black velvet robe changing red and so on emerged. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief - none of her wandless and non-verbal spells had been picked up. 

Nigel blinked at the rapidly appearing images, crowding his desk "That's a lot of spells"

"Oh just use prior incantato brevis" yelled the witch from her desk.

"Y-yes" he said, casting the charm. The images disappeared. Instead, Millicent's voice could be heard quietly saying each spell.

Ten minutes later and it was done. Nigel looked bored. "That was a lot of scouring charms - what are you a glorified house elf." The others dutifully giggled. No wonder Pansy had lost her temper, Millicent thought.

She gave him a tight smile. "Something like that" she murmured, making sure that she was coming off as inoffensive and uninteresting as possible.

"Yes, well stop wasting my time and go," he said through a yawn. 

Quickly plucking her wand off his desk she rushed out into the cold air of Diagon Alley, breathing the cold air in relief.

It was 8 o'clock by the time she got home. Snape greeted her with a sneer, while grandmere stayed perched on her tower, staring out in the distance.

She put her things down and handed Snape a bleeding heart bloom.

"You shouldn't have," he said dryly.

"I used this today in a potion to colour a robe red"

"Madder root is the traditional ingredient," he observed, placing the bloom in an old potions beaker.

"The potion had to age the robes of the one who ingested it and had to work with a charm that made the robe sing."

"This has George Weasely all over it."

She nodded. "Madder was overpowered by the other ingredients."

"And this beauty wasn't?" he asked gazing with interest at the pulsing flower.

"It's a hybrid. From what I understand the shape is from a muggle plant - they call it bleeding heart. The red glow and pulsing appear to be derived from a fireseed bush. There's more to it, of course, but this is what I can tell so far."

"And you think the muggle plant acts as a barrier, stopping the fireseed from interacting with the other ingredients." Snape theorised. "Interesting"

"I told you I want to make stackable potions," Millicent said earnestly. "Multiple potions that can all be taken together in one dose without affecting each other."

"And I told you that even if you could make such a potion it would not make you a potion master."

Millicent growled in frustration, letting her cat form take over. 

"It has applications though" Snape mused.

She cast him a dark look through her narrow pupils 

"It could, for instance," he said while pouring her a bowl of milk, "be used to dramatically cut down the seven doses of wolfsbane potion."

He placed the milk in front of her.

"With enough effort, intelligence and _guidance_ ," he said emphasizing the last word "it could even improve the effects of the potion."

She hungrily lapped up the milk, as he spoke. She had on occasion cobbled together a makeshift wolfsbane potion when she was in Hungary. But, it was hardly a potion she could claim expertise in, not enough to modify it on her own. 

Milk finished, she slid back into humanity. "And what would this guidance require," she asked grumpily

"My wand for a start," Snape said dryly. "Do you know where it is?"

Millicent racked her brain "I think Harry Potter had it put in the Snape wing of the wizarding heroes exhibition at Hogwarts"

"Snape wing! Wizarding heroes exhibition!" He spluttered.

Millicent hid a grim smile. "Oh yes, you are quite the wizarding world darling now"

He shuddered in disgust. "In any case, apprentice, you need to help me inventory the ingredients downstairs. Grandmere got a large haul while you were away."

It was an exhausted Millicent who crawled into bed late that night. 

\----

In the morning she woke to grandmere perched on one of the posts of her bed. She gulped before remembering the previous night. Angrily, she yelled "You masked me! Do you know how much trouble that could have got me in?

Grandmere's eyes were disdainful. "What thanks is this" She hissed.

"I never asked you-" started Millicent hotly. 

"Oh, you and the boy with your askings" she shrugged. She stalked closer.

"Come here you kit," she said darting forward suddenly and clutching Millicent by the back of her neck.

She tried to squirm, changing forms in an attempt to break free but grandmere's grip was firm. Millicent's claws dug into the mattress as she felt grandmere's magic cloak her. Finally, she was released.

"I have, unasked," she said mockingly, "removed the mask"

Millicent relaxed but stiffened when she felt something strange in her mind. Another presence was in her mind, something so strange but familiar. "Grandmere," she whispered, her heart beating fast "have you made me into your Horcrux?"

Grandmere screeched her laughter. "As if I could do so primitive a magic. This just lets me see what you see and whisper some basic instructions to you."

"I value the privacy of my brain," Millicent said tightly.

"I can tell" answered grandmere "so many occulmancy blocks here - how do you do function?"

Millicent tensed. 

"Oh fine" huffed grandmere. "You can use your occlumency to make barriers and I'll respect them. But remember if it's something really important I'll tear down the barriers in less than a second."

She nodded for it was more than she expected. 

Grandmere disappeared, and Millicent got out of bed to get ready 

When she headed into the main room, Snape was reading The Daily Prophet while Grandmere cooked gruel, in hag form. 

"Ahh Millicent," said Snape snapping his paper. "You should get started today on acquiring my wand"

Millicent took the gruel from grandmere with a thanks. "Can't I just find you a new one?"

Snape just looked at her.

"Stealing from Hogwarts is hardly a walk in the park," she protested 

"Most of your year managed it," said Snape unconcerned.

"Use your snobby flower," Grandmere interjected.

"Pansy?" Asked Millicent surprised 

"Yes," grandmere flew up to the rafters "she owes me."

\----

Millicent apparated into the Diagon alley and rushed to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. To her surprise, George and Ron were sitting calmly drinking tea on a clean work table. 

"Ahh Millicent," said George "just a minute please." He walked to the shop floor door and called out "She's here"

A minute later Ginny Weasley came in, followed by an older red-haired woman. This must be their mother, Millicent thought.

The older woman came forward and said to Millicent "Hello, I'm Molly"

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Weasely," murmured Millicent, bemused.

The lady smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Please give my regards to Grandmere"

Startled Millicent stammered "Uh..t- thank you." In the back of her head, a voice screeched token, token.

"Um… it's customary to give a token of your regard to Grandmere" she said, turning red.

"Of course" Molly Weasley nodded. "My family and I have thought long about what token we can give, aunt"

So she was a descendant and a close one at that. Millicent closed her eyes. She hated having her worlds meet. If they could only be the talented but ordinary wizards she had written them off as.

"We decided," Molly continued "that the item of greatest value that we could give was our friendship to you, Millicent, and through you to grandmere."

Millicent was shocked. The silence between them grew as she tried to understand what the older lady was offering. A soft "no" escaped before she could stop it.

"Our friendship is nothing to scoff at," said Ginny, hotly, "it helped Harry Potter defeat Voldemort. We are -"

"No, that's not it." Millicent interrupted "You cannot be a friend to Grandmere." The voice in the back of her head whispered: "That's right". "Out," Millicent thought desperately, pulling her occlumency shields tight.

Calmer now, she tried to explain: "She's not some nice ancestor protecting you, wanting to be friends."

Molly Weasley said grimly "Believe me we know. This family has sacrificed much for grandmere."

"Then you will know that it's for the best to have as little to do with her as much as possible," Millicent insisted.

The others looked shocked. "What about the token?" Asked Ron.

"We are not going to shortchange you by offering you less than our worth!" Protested George.

"We know how much we owe you," said Ginny quietly, her hand on her mother's arm.

Merlin save her from Noble Gryffindors! "You don't know who you are offering to ally yourself to," she protested. "She aided Voldemort in the second wizarding war!"

"But you fought against him," said a quiet voice behind her. Charlie Weasley, she hadn't heard him come in.

"My actions are not relevant here," she replied, encountering a series of occlumency blocks when it came to her thoughts of him. It would be foolish to undo them here, she'd have to trust herself that there was something about him that she shouldn't know.

"But they are," answered Molly, "we offer our friendship to  _ you.  _ For grandmere, our token is being strong friends to her grandchild, not to her."

"I am tied in her schemes," Millicent said, "and I do not know where they lead, or who they will harm."

"Then we will help you in reducing their harm," Charlie said reassuringly.

She didn't know what to say. She felt a soft sensation on her occlumency shields, like a knock. Carefully she pulled them down, and grandmere's presence swarmed in, like ants after a summer picnic, crawling over every new thought. There was a soft grunt of assent - grandmere was pleased with the latest developments.

"This, of course, doesn't change anything in terms of your employment," said Ron, awkwardly.

"Of course," she murmured. She took a deep breath and said: "Grandmere, accepts your kind token".

The Weasley's let out a collective sigh of relief. 

"That's good," said Molly. She smiled at Millicent. "If you need anything just let one of us know, okay?"

Stunned Millicent nodded - this was the second time this week that someone had acknowledged they owe her a favour. 

Molly and the rest of the Weasley's wandered away, leaving only Millicent, George and Ron.

She looked at George and asked, "What potions do you need today?"

"I thought we could shortlist the potions to put in your pills" he answered.

"Pills?" She asked

"Yes, these muggle contraptions," he said, handing over a small blister pack. "This is what inspired you?"

She nodded. "Are you going to market them like this?"

Ron answered, "We'll call them Potions pills." 

The three quietly gathered around the table and made a list of medical potions. Millicent let the rhythms of potion making and brainstorming drift her away, resolving to keep grandmere in the back of her mind as much as possible. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week. But next week's is long.

It was noon before Charlie could escape the noise of the shop into the relatively calmer Diagon Alley. The meeting with Millicent had been a success, he supposed. She and grandmere had accepted their token after all. But he felt that something had shifted between her and him. He shook himself at the odd thought. He had barely interacted with her, there was no established baseline for their relationship. But he felt that this time, instead of him searching and trying to puzzle her out, it was her who was confused. He had been able to sneak up on her, without even trying - and she had looked at him so oddly, as if… as if she was scared. Scared but curious.

Again he shook his head - why would this powerful witch, this powerful  _ creature - _ a voice whispered in the back of his head - be scared of him? Him - an average wizard whose only talents lay with dragons and quidditch. Why, for that matter, he wondered why would she be curious about him? They had barely anything in common and she was far too sensible a witch to have her head turned by the so-called Weasley charm. 

"Charlie!" Shouted the familiar voice of his former brother-in-law. "What are you doing here?"

Charlie stopped with a start. To his embarrassment, he found himself in the middle of the red-lit entryway of Desire Den, the newly opened bordello on Knockturn Alley. Blushing hotly he turned to Harry and sputtered "I - I have no idea. I can't think how I found my way here. I was just walking, lost in my thoughts -"

"Would those be lustful thoughts, sir?" Asked a pimply youth in a shiny new uniform from behind Harry. 

"What! No of course not..." Charlie exclaimed.

"That's enough, Auror-trainee Prang," intervened Harry. He turned to Charlie and explained, "We've suspected for a while that Madam Rosa has been using a light compulsion spell to drum up business from the unwary witch and wizard. Come on down to the Diagon Alley MLE field office and we'll check you over for enchantments."

Somewhat sheepishly, Charlie followed "Honestly, Harry, I doubt it was an enchantment," he said quietly, "I was distracted with everything that's been going on. Really it's just a case of too much wool-gathering and too little watching my feet."

To Charlie's surprise, Harry cast a strong silencing spell around the two of them. "Distracted by everything? I take it that means the token wasn't accepted?" He asked, his face tense.

"No" Charlie hurried to clarify "Millicent assured us that grandmere was pleased with our token."

Harry's face only grew tenser. "This may not have been the best outcome" he muttered to himself.

Before Charlie could ask him what he meant, he found himself whisked away into the MLE office. Prang and another Auror quickly ran a bunch of tests on Charlie while Harry walked into his office. "The results will be available shortly, sir," said the unknown Auror "why don't you wait with the director in his office?" She suggested.

Charlie nodded and walked over to Harry's office. The other wizard was at his desk, frowning over a letter, which he set down when Charlie knocked on his glass door. As he entered an iridescent sheen of privacy and silencing spells glistened over the room. Harry's spell-casting seemed to grow stronger and stronger with every visit. 

"This," he said, holding up the letter with the office of SIMO stamp on it. "Is a request for opening an investigation on one Millicent Bulstrode "

"On what grounds?" Charlie asked, his spine stiffening.

"Suspected casting of the confundus charm on George and Ron Weasley. Suspected use of the imperio curse on the Hungarian potion master board. Conspiracy to undermine the owl network. Consorting with Pansy Parkinson-Smith, a witch who is the subject of several investigations. Stealing a necklace of frozen dragon tears valued an approximate 5000 galleons from the aforementioned Parkinson-Smith." He listed before putting down the letter.

He looked at Charlie over his glasses. "I'd normally dismiss these allegations as more petty Slytherin-baiting. After all, SIMOs own monitoring shows that Millicent hasn't used anything but routine spells. There is no evidence of imperio on the Hungarian potion master board, which in any case is out of our jurisdiction. It is unclear how and indeed, what Ms Bulstrode did to "undermine the owl network." Consorting with Pansy Parkinson-Smith, while showing questionable taste, is in no way a crime. And on that note, Ms Parkinson-Smith has not reported any theft of a necklace.

"Yet you think there's some truth in the allegations, now?" Charlie started as he pulled out a chair and sat across from Harry.

Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his hands through his already messy hair. "SIMO's monitoring charms catch only magic performed through a wand. Millicent uses hers to do even the most basic of cleaning spells. That would normally put her in the clear - we assume the more complex a spell the more likely a wand is to be used. But I suspect for Millicent, the opposite is true."

Charlie blinked "Neither Ron nor George are under confoundus," he protested.

"I know" Harry nodded "I checked them both at the party"

"Then what is the issue?" Charlie protested. 

"The issue is we have no idea what enchantments and spells Millicent may be casting due to this wild magic," Harry replied. "We still don't know why the owls weren't able to deliver her the SIMO letters. Her explanation that her name was misspelt is clearly a misdirection, the envelopes are magically addressed from the Hogwarts register, there is no way they could be misspelt. And she has taken the necklace of frozen dragon tears from Pansy."

"She's not even the type to wear fancy jewellery" protested Charlie. He got up and walked around the office, agitated. "We offered her the Weasley's friendship, and that includes yours. You can't suspect her over every single little thing"

"I know," said Harry, looking down at his desk. "But normally when you offer someone your friendship you trust them beforehand. And so here's my question, Charlie - do you trust her? How sure are you that she saved Molly? Is there any way, any suspicion at all, that she may have cast a spell to make you believe that she saved Molly? To trick you into thinking that the Weasley family owed her a life debt?"

"There's an easy way to find out" Charlie answered angrily, as he reached for his wand. " _ Revelio Life debts."  _

Several shafts of lights emerged from both him and Harry. ,,

"This one," he said, grabbing a shaft of light and pointing out Millicent's name in it. Charlie looked up and was surprised to see how pale Harry was as he looked down at one of the shafts of light around him. Charlie waved his wand, cancelling the spell.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Harry jumped "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. But…" he trailed off as a knock sounded on the door. "Come in," he said wandlesly cancelling some of the privacy spells. 

"Results in for the enchantment tests," said Prang phlegmatically. "Evidence of mild compulsion charm. Appears to be targeting those with thoughts of romance."

Charlie felt his cheeks flush as Harry raised an eyebrow. 

"Don't try to explain," Harry said, "I'd be honour-bound to try to explain it to Molly and it won't go over well."

"There's really nothing to explain," Charlie protested weakly.

Harry looked sceptical but directed his comments to Prang. "Add it to Madam Rosa's file, please. I think we have enough evidence for a raid."

The trainee Auror nodded and left the room. Harry looked at Charlie in the silence. "Something is going on with her." He finally said.

"With Millicent?" Charlie asked tersely.

"With Millicent, with that grandm-" he cut himself off, but Charlie nodded to show that he understood.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Said Charlie abruptly.

"Our usual monitoring tools are no help at all in investigating Millicent. They are blind to wild magic, but you aren't."

"Even if I agreed that Millicent should be investigated - which I don't, by the way - all I can do is sense when wild magic is building up. I have no idea how it will manifest itself" Charlie protested.

"I'm sure Millicent would prefer to be investigated by her friends, than Mclaggen and the SIMO staff," said Harry. He continued before Charlie could protest. "I'm not asking you to lie to her. Just talk to her, warn her off even. But keep an eye out for wild magic around her and the shop. It's just being cautious. And if after a week of this there are no other inexplicable events we can put a lid on this."

Feeling very much as if he had no choice Charlie nodded in agreement


	9. Chapter 9

Millicent carefully stirred the last batch of star grass salve, holding her breath as it turned from light amber to the correct shade of pale green. The salve was going to be one of the ten first aid potions that the Weasley brothers and she were planning to put into the new 'med-pack in your hand' kits they were developing. She was about to charm it into pill form when she was interrupted by the sound of voices overhead. 

"Millicent," said George Weasley, "has been an extremely valuable addition to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She's already invented a new product line and helped us refine several of our recipes."

She flushed in pleasure, but her joy at the praise was stopped short by the sound of a voice replying to George.

"That remains to be seen, " said the unknown voice, "a fat lot of good she will be if there's no Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. There's been a complaint. And before you dismiss it, George, it's from a respected member of the public. He says your potions are unlicensed and we should shut you down."

Millicent quelled the panic bubbling up in her gut. Stay calm and think! she told herself fiercely. Normally, she couldn't hear voices from above. George must have deliberately opened the door for her to hear them. Yet he hadn't called for her.

She let herself fade, casting a modified wandless Silencio to muffle her footsteps as she climbed up the stairs. Upstairs in the backroom, she carefully stood in the shadows, letting their darkness merge into her own. George was frowning over a piece of official-looking parchment. Across him stood a tall wizard, his hands loosely holding a small pile of parchment.

Cormac Mclaggen! Her former classmate hadn't aged well with his florid complexion and thinning hair. She carefully shifted behind him - trying to get a peek at the pages he was holding.

"But what business is this of SIMO's?" asked George, his hand crumpling the complaint parchment.

"The complaint alleged that there were nefarious influences behind your hiring of the Slytherin."

"The Slytherin? You mean Millicent?" Exclaimed George.

"Of course, unless there are other Slytherins you've been hiring," he snorted derisively. "I must say I find your praise of her most suspicious. I expected more resistance from a wizard of your calibre."

"Most suspicious! What's she's supposed to have done - charmed Ron and me somehow for an entry-level job when she was a potion master in Hungary? Hardly the wisest use of her talents!"

Cormac puffed up, "She could have cast a  _ confundus _ charm. Why else would you hire her, especially after her disastrous showing at the potion master's trial?"

"Disastrous showing! She was the only one who made a workable potion with no side effects!" Fumed George. He shrugged off his purple-spattered robes and held out his arms. "Well, I suppose if you have to check me for enchantments, you have to check."

Cormac set down the pile of parchment on a table behind him, before approaching George, his wand casting a monitoring spell. Millicent used his distraction to quickly cast a wandless  _ Geminio _ on the forms and slipped the duplicates into her dark robe. George quirked an eyebrow, the only evidence that anyone had noticed her act.

Meanwhile, Cormac continued casting charm after charm, each one revealing nothing but harmless laundry and protection charms. He frowned at them suspiciously "Accidents happen when your work is inventing wheezes," George explained. "I find a few minor shield charms ends up saving me galleons in robes."

Cormac grunted in acknowledgement. "That brother of yours needs to be checked too."

"Sure," said George easily, "Ron's having lunch at his wife's office. You can stop by and see them there. I warn you though - she won't be pleased if you come without a warrant"

At this Cormac paled, Millicent had heard that Hermione had filed several cases against SIMO for over-enthusiastic monitoring and stepping outside their jurisdiction. He mumbled "Well, if you are okay, he would be too. No point in wasting my time. I should check on the girl, though."

At this, Millicent promptly made her way to the staircase, casting wandless spells to quickly gather dirty potion materials across the lab on a workbench.

George meanwhile, strategically positioned himself in front of Cormac. "Her name is Millicent"

"Whatever it may be. Where is she?"

"At this time?" There was a pause. "Well, she should be downstairs in our potions lab. Let me just check. Ah silly me, dropped my wand. Mind picking it up? Oops, it was one of the trick wands. Just hold still, the raven will stop trying to beat you in a minute… Ooh, mind the ever-expanding Everest..."

It was a good five-minutes later before a dishevelled, bruised and heated Cormac Mclaggen made his way down the stairs. By this time, Millicent was chin-deep in dirty cauldrons and beakers. She calmly continued with washing a brass cauldron by hand as he approached, making sure that she was visible. 

Cormac gave her a suspicious stare. "Cleaning potions equipment - is that all you do?" He said peering at her.

"Hello to you too, Mclaggen" she replied coolly "and yes, it's certainly the most time-consuming part of my duties."

By this time though Mclaggen had lost interest, and he had wandered away, poking at various shelves and cauldrons. "What's this?" He asked peering suspiciously at the cooling potion.

"Star grass salve" answered George Weasely before Millicent could reply. "A powerful healing balm. Would you like some for your bruises?"

Cormac hurriedly replied. "Ahh no, there's no need for that. It's quite okay. Well, I really should rush. You know I'm quite busy. Quite an honour for you that I came down here in person. But really must be going."

George nodded solicitously. "Of course, let me just walk you out. We don't want any more accidents."

Millicent waited till they were out of sight before grabbing the duplicate parchment pages from her robes. The first one was an authorization form for the real-time monitoring of Pansy Parkinson. Merlin's nuts, she swore under her breath, there go her plans for Snape's wand. 

"Millicent," said a quiet voice. She looked up to see George staring at the parchment pieces in her hand.

"I was able to duplicate the pages he was holding," she explained. George strode towards her. 

"That's good. The complaint was vague - just something about unlicensed potions used in our products." He said as he peered at the parchment pages at her desk.

"Are they unlicensed?" She asked.

"I don't think so. They are mainly popular, everyday potions modified slightly."

"Hmm," she said as she rifled through the parchment and picked up one scroll "This is the original complaint."

She started to read it out loud "As there is no potion master or equivalent at Weasely's Wizard Wheezes any modifications made to the potions used are improperly vetted and not safe for consumption." 

She handed him a thick scroll: "This is a list of multiple incidents where the products of Weasely's Wizard Wheezes have caused distress and property damage."

George waved his hand lazily. "They roll out that chestnut every few months after an incident. I point out that the wheezes worked as advertised, Ron shows his Order of Merlin and they let us off. Worst that ever happened was a small fine."

Millicent, who had been reading the complaint, reached the end and sighed: "This is my fault."

"What do you mean?" Asked George.

"It's all here." She replied, handing him the complaint. "The complaint is by Toots - who hates me. He's alleging that I've enchanted you and Ron someway and I'm using the shop as some sort of front for a nefarious Slytherin organisation. They aren't going to let you get away with a slap on the wrist, this time."

"Nonsense, " exclaimed George. "Even Cormac Mclaggen knows you aren't up to something here. Look at this."

He handed over a small spiral booklet that had been duplicated along with the pages of parchment. "An automatically updating notebook," Millicent said, confused.

"Yes, your  _ Geminio _ charm must have been very strong - it's still updating."

Millicent flicked to the last page of the notebook. It said "MB just potions assistant. (Confirmed from monitoring records and witness statement). TT correct job should have gone to new graduates and not Slytherin. But MB no brains behind op."

As she read, new writing appeared in the notebook. "W's too big for boots. No potion master on staff - an excellent reason to close down."

"He's not going to let it go," she said as she handed the updated notebook to George.

He read it with uncharacteristic seriousness. "We'll have to get a potion master." He said frowning.

Her heart sunk, as she wondered if he was going to replace her. "Do you have anyone in mind?" she asked faintly.

George looked up at her distracted. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out." He said lightly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

"I really must talk to Ron and Hermione. Between the three of us, we will come up with something. But we don't have much time - Cormac wants a reply to the complaint by Monday…" He trailed off, distracted. 

Millicent stood silent, unsure of what to say or do. 

After a bit, George came back to himself. "Are you still here, Millicent?" He asked peering into the shadows. "Ahh, I can see you are fading again. Why don't you call it a day? This can't have been very pleasant for you and you've been working all out this week."

Trying to take a hold of herself, she nodded and started cleaning up, casting a slew of cleaning spells verbally before approaching the cooled star grass salve and casting the charms to turn it into miniature form.

Once done, she looked up to see that George had already left, though she could hear muffled voices from the floor upstairs. He must be on a floo call, she realized. Uncertain on whether she should try to eavesdrop, she stood in the middle of the potions lab. She shook herself, the Weasely's had offered her friendship, she needed to learn to trust them.

\------

Out in the cold air of Diagon Alley, she felt much better. Decisively, she pushed the events of the day to the back of her mind and focused on her next task. Her original plans to rope in Pansy to get Snape's wand would need to be reworked now that she knew the other witch was being monitored. Yet she could hardly do it on her own. The first challenge would be to make contact with Pansy.

Twenty minutes later, Millicent was at a doorstep of a brightly painted, elegant, if little shop, perilously located at the furthest end of Diagon Alley. "Toria" read the sign overhead, under which, in a slightly smaller font was written, "Modern robes for the new age witch."

Millicent blinked at the sign before pushing open the front door of the shop. Immediately she was assailed by a heated puff of air carrying the smell of lemongrass and lavender. Inside was a bright room lit by magicked sunlight and filled with bejewelled and floral-printed robes. Soft harp music accented with discreetly placed happiness and calmness charms played in the background.

A thin witch came fluttering through the backdoor, a polished smile on her lips "Welcome to Tori-." Her greeting cut off as she looked at Millicent in her dark robes, potion stains across her hands.

"Astoria," Millicent said calmly, "it's good to see you again."

"W-w-why yes, " stammered the other witch, "I hadn't realised you were even back in England."

So the stammer was back - the younger witch had always been scared of Millicent. Perhaps, understandably so given her connection to grandmere. "It's been less than a week, " replied Millicent, trying to set the other witch at ease. "But I really do need a new set of dress robes."

"B-but of course, " said Astoria, "I'm really thrilled you came to me. You really do need a change from those staid old dusty rags"

Millicent's smile turned insincere. Just because she was scared, Millicent reflected, didn't mean that Astoria was any different from any other Slytherin. "I suppose you will want to design them from scratch?" Her eyes went around the room, noting that every robe on display was tiny and would never fit her.

Astoria jumped "Y-yes, ready-made robes really won't be s-s-s - appropriate." 

Millicent nodded, "I wanted my dress robes in this style that was popular amongst my year-mates. I can't remember if your sister ever wore them, but I seem to remember that Pansy Parkinson had several…" she trailed off, looking at Astoria significantly.

"P-p-pansy? Why she's here in the back office -

Millicent quickly interrupted her. "How lovely, I'll just pop in to say hello and ask her if she can describe them."

With that, she stepped through the back door. Pansy was sitting at a desk going over what seemed to be Toria's accounts. She looked up surprised and Millicent instantly cast a wandless _legilimens,_ diving into her mind with hesitation.

Despite her quick action, Pansy was already constructing several walls to defend her mind. Millicent ignored these and said "We need to talk privately. Come this way." She pointed to a doorway behind her that opened into her mind.

Pansy followed her into what was a replica of Millicent's sitting room in Beauxbatons. Millicent made her way to the powder-blue armchair and motioned Pansy to sit at the window seat of the large bay window. The window's usual view of the courtyard ice sculptures and fountains was obscured by a stained-glass triptych of the maiden, mother and crone. Millicent stared it before the crone winked at her. Grandmere! Of course, she'd eavesdrop.

"Grandmere accepts your token with thanks" she began.

Pansy clasped her hands and leaned forward. "Then she'll help me, I mean, us?" Behind her, the stained glass maiden fell over laughing.

Millicent bit the inside of her cheek to stop from reacting. "It would be more accurate to think of it as you being permitted to be of some assistance to  _ her. _ " She looked at the window to see the crone nod her head in approval.

Pansy, however, was less than pleased, as she pouted and frowned. "And how am I supposed to do that? More precious necklaces and such?" Her voice was laden with sarcasm. The triptych grew dark and the figures within it leaned closer to the unaware witch.

Millicent hurriedly intervened. "On my way out I'll drop a handkerchief. Pick it up discretely and cast a  _ finite incantatem  _ on it when you're alone and not watched."

She paused to see if Pansy was following. The other witch nodded, the discontent on her face obvious.

"The handkerchief will turn into two items. The first will be a duplicate of a SIMO order authorizing your continuous monitoring-"

Pansy gasped, "They can't do that! How can they do that? Did you and grandmere make this happen!?"

From behind her, the mother figure reached her hand out and around Pansy's neck, the long fingernails digging into her throat. "You like saying my name, don't you dearie?" She whispered.

The maiden grabbed hold of several locks of Pansy's shiny dark hair and used them to pull the witch towards her. "You like throwing around accusations, don't you dearie?" 

The crone meanwhile, took a bite out of half red and half green apple. She held it close to Pansy's unwilling mouth. "You like being disrespectful, don't you dearie?"

Pansy's panicked eyes found Millicent. She couldn't bring herself to do more than give the witch a look of deep reproach. She had warned Pansy! Several times in fact! And really what in Merlin's name, did Pansy think she could do against grandmere?

"My apologies, grandmere, " Pansy said in a high pitched voice. The crone let her apple fall, and it bounced off Pansy's knee before resting on the corner of the carpet. Millicent cast it a baleful look and set it alight with an  _ Incendio _ . 

"I am honoured that you found my token to your liking" Pansy continued, her voice shaking. The mother let her littlest fingernail nick Pansy before shrugging and letting go.

"I will do everything in my power to assist you, " Pansy whispered. The maiden stared into her eyes, before sharply pulling out a hair. She let her go.

"Knee trouble, non-fatal weakness and hair fall, " Millicent summarised grimly. "Don't waste any galleons on potions or charms - they won't help. Muggle remedies may be more successful - Grandmere doesn't keep up with them." 

At this, the maiden cast Millicent an affronted look. "You don't," She thought at her. "And we are in my mind, you should have at least asked before punishing her here."

"Is there any way to reverse it?" Asked a stricken Pansy.

Millicent winced: "It's been several generations and grandmere still hasn't reversed the blood curse she placed on Astoria's family."

Pansy paled. "Is this going to be inherited?"

The triptych stayed motionless. "No, " said Millicent before catching a movement out of the corner of her eye. "At least, not yet."

Now it was Pansy's turn to cast Millicent a look of reproach. "I did warn you not to get involved with her." Millicent defended herself.

"Neither grandmere nor I were involved in the SIMO order. Apparently, they felt you were 'hostile' in your weekly monitoring visits and that's been enough to justify this order."

Pansy sighed. She looked exhausted: "So just more anti-Slytherin bias, again."

Millicent nodded. "The second item from the handkerchief will be a scroll with a recipe of wolfsbane. It is annotated by notes in the hand of Professor Snape."

Pansy looked bemused.

"You will contact Parvati Patil. Tell her you want to donate it to her organization for werewolf rehabilitation. But only with the condition that once they are done with it, that it be placed in the Snape wing of the Wizarding Heros' exhibition. You want it to be placed with a plaque thanking Zacharias and you."

Pansy smiled but shook her head. "It's a nice thought, but it's hardly going to win us any goodwill."

"Grandmere, " said Millicent, the warning heavy in her tone. "Has another purpose for it."

"Of course! As I said I'm more than happy to help in any which way…" As Pansy fell over herself to assure Millicent of her co-operation, Millicent looked at triptych again and almost swallowed her tongue in surprise. Grandmere had let go of her hold on human form. The maiden now had the head of a cat and was idly batting some yarn. Meanwhile, the mother was preening her feathers. The crone was in full panther form and was basking in a patch of sunlight. 

Struggling not to wince at Grandmere's antics, Millicent turned her attention to the still-babbling Pansy. "We won't be able to communicate openly," she said cutting the other witch off abruptly. "I'll be ordering a dress robe from Astoria. When you want to talk to me ask her to send me a message for fittings or something. We'll have to talk through legilimency when we meet."

"Astoria's robes are hardly cheap," objected Pansy, eying Millicent's faded robe dubiously. 

Millicent grinned "I know. That's why anyone overhearing us would hear us negotiating a substantial discount. I've bargained you down to 75 per cent off."

Pansy gasped outraged. "75! That's daylight robbery." She paused and looked at Millicent. "What makes you think I have any sway over what Astoria charges you?"

"Because you're the main investor at Toria." 

At Pansy's shocked look, Millicent made an impatient sound. "Oh come on Pansy, it's hardly difficult to figure out. Draco would never finance so bourgeoisie an investment as a shop for his wife. The Greengrass's never had much around to spare. But this would be a perfect venture for you to invest your galleons while having an excuse to keep an eye out on Malfoy's poor little sick wife." She mocked. "You just can't leave him alone, can you? That and the numerous descriptions of the 'scrumptious' gowns from Toria's in your letters clued me in. You must have had a hand in designing them otherwise you'd never bother to praise them so unreservedly "

Pansy's eyes flashed dangerously before she quelled her anger. "I'm just trying to help out a fellow Slytherin. At least,  _ I  _ value house loyalty."

Well-played, thought Millicent, Pansy had effortlessly regained the moral high ground. Silently, she pulled her mind's shields shut, ejecting both of them from her mind. Outside in Pansy's over-filled office, she gave the surprised witch a tight smile and said "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Do keep in touch"

With that she swept out of the room, running into a flustered Astoria. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the string of an extendable ear hanging out of the pocket of her robes. Millicent smiled grimly at her but before she could say anything Pansy popped her head out of the door.

Exhausted and notably paler, Pansy said in a low hoarse voice "Do give Millie the top discount for the robes, Tori. I'm quite tired and I'm going to apparate home, now." She disappeared back into her room.

Astoria glared at Millicent in suppressed fury. "Really! And for just a discount!" She hissed. Of course, she had recognised grandmere's curse and of course, she blamed Millicent for it. 

Trying to stop from wincing, Millicent signalled to Astoria. It was an abbreviated Slytherin sign language for half-bloods or those who were opposed to the Dark Lord, that they had come up with the year before the war. She wasn't certain the other witch knew it but if she did she'd know it meant that things weren't what they seemed and to be discreet. "Could you provide me with a receipt please?" she said coolly.

Astoria grimly handed it over to Millicent who carefully made sure to brush her hand against the witch's wrist as she took it. As she did so she shot two quick wandless spells. The first was a diagnostic spell, which revealed that the witch had little time left - a matter of weeks. The second soothed her symptoms allowing some colour into her cheeks and easing her shallow breathing. It was the most powerful healing spell Millicent knew but it wouldn't undo grandmere's curse or buy her more time. All it could do was make her a bit more comfortable. 

Feeling defeated, Millicent walked out of the stylish shop into the comforting darkness of Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for cursed child: In the Cursed Child, Astoria is ill because of a blood curse that runs through her family. She ends up dying from it. I haven't seen the Cursed Child and I'm not sure if I will be using it but I thought this was an interesting development that I could blame on grandmere.


	10. Chapter 10

It was pitch dark when Charlie woke to his mother calling out his name. Stumbling out of his childhood bedroom and down the stairs, he winced at the brightness of the kitchen. Molly stood in the middle of the room, directing a line of scones from the oven to the dining table in front of a wide-awake Harry Potter.

"Where's the hippogriff?" He asked grumpily, as he pulled out a chair at the table and grabbing one of the flying scones. It was far too early for whatever Harry wanted from him, especially after the embarrassment of yesterday's meeting.

"Sorry to wake you Charlie but it was important," said Harry. Charlie glared at him but the other wizard didn't seem to notice. Instead, the younger wizard looked apologetically at Molly.

"Oh you boys and your secrets," tutted the witch. "I'm going back to bed. Don't burn down the kitchen, Charlie. No experimental magic, Harry."

As soon as she left the kitchen, Harry cast a familiar series of privacy charms. "We've got some disturbing information about Millicent." He said grimly. "She's blood cursed Pansy Parkinson-Smith."

Charlie looked up from the scone he was generously covering with clotted cream. "Is that SIMO's latest accusation against her?" He said in deceptively mild tones.

With a frown, Harry shook his head: "This isn't SIMO or some Slytherin-hating busybody. It's quite clear that Parkinson has been cursed. She's aged at least 10 years and is walking with a limp. And it happened right after Millicent met her."

Charlie pushed away the scone, his appetite gone. "Why would she curse her?" He asked. "From what I can tell Pansy is her only friend here."

Harry sighed and pulled out a scroll from his robes. "The monitoring report says they were meeting over a dress robe. Millicent wanted a discount apparently."  


Charlie rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the oncoming headache. "None of this makes any sense. Millicent is hardly the type to curse someone over clothes."

"And you know her well enough to know what 'type' she is?"   


Charlie looked down at the table, feeling his ears heat up. Of course, he didn't know her - he'd barely spent any time with her! But he did feel a connection to her, and this just didn' fit his understanding of her.

"She's up to something, Charlie," Harry looked at the scones in front of him. "You've got to find out what it is."

\---

Weasley Wizard's Wheezes was unusually subdued when Charlie apparated in. The normally roaring fire was banked and the cacophony of sounds and strange smells were oddly absent.

George was seated at his desk, unnaturally quiet as he looked through what appeared to be a pile of contract scrolls. Charlie could see Ron through the window, talking to what looked like a patronus of an otter. "What's the matter?" Charlie asked, alarmed by the subdued atmosphere.

George looked up, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. "Charlie - you must not have heard. It's the Ministry. They've got it in for us. They are going to close us down unless we get a potion master on board."

Before he could answer, Ron popped into the room: "It's no good, George. Hermione says their legal argument is water-tight."   


George groaned, his hands tugging at his hair. "Can't you just hire a potion master?" Asked Charlie.   


George snorted. "They're hardly growing on trees, Charlie. And before you ask, I already used my three chances to be certified. Apparently, potions for pranks don't have enough merit for a potion master's certificate." He grumbled.

"Even if he had another chance," said Ron, as he paced across the room "it would hardly do any good. They wouldn't schedule an examination at such short notice."

An idea occurred to Charlie. "Get Harry to do it," he suggested. "He's good at potions and the ministry would be happy to bend the rules for him."

"It could work!" Said George, his eyes brightening. "And he's officially a partner at Weasely's Wizards Wheezes since the start. We can use that to argue for retroactive permission for our potions!"

Ron had already bent over the floo, stoking the fire so that he could make a call to Harry.

"Do you know where Millicent is?" Charlie asked before his brothers got too distracted.

"Millicent? Oh," George frowned as he tried to remember. "I think she's downstairs in the potion lab. I don't know what she's working on though…"

Charlie nodded and slipped downstairs, leaving them to their floo call.

\----

The potion lab was darker than usual, the atmosphere oppressive. Millicent was standing over a cauldron burping out a deep crimson smoke, frowning at it.

"What are you working on?" Charlie asked with a small smile. The witch jumped, her notice me not spell intensifying. Charlie stayed still, forcing his eyes to keep looking at her even though he desperately wanted to look away.

"It's an experimental variant of the invigoration draught," she finally said, the spell fading enough for him to see the dark shadow of her.

"I thought that was already a more effective version of that potion," he said standing beside her.

She shifted slightly as if she wanted to move away but stopped herself. "There is. But it doesn't help for magical maladies that cause weakness."

"Magical maladies that cause weakness," he repeated, "like blood curses?"

She startled badly, disappearing completely in the shadows. A large number of glass beakers and tubes flew from all across the room. They surrounded him from all sides, in a transparent barricade. Charlie's hand instinctively went to his wand.

"You can't attack me," whispered Millicent, her voice stern. "The glass will refract any spell you send my way, even if you can somehow see through my notice me not spell."

"I don't want to attack you," he said, forcing his hand away from his wand. "We get along remember?"

There was a distrustful silence.

"I'm your friend, Millicent."   


"Are you?" Came a doubtful whisper.

"I am," Charlie said firmly. He pointed to the cauldron. "You are trying to help Pansy Parkinson-Smith with her blood curse, aren't you?"

He could just about make out her pale face in the shadows to his left. She was closer than he thought. She sighed: "If it worked, this potion would help more than Pansy. There's Astoria, the Greengrass and the Malfoy lines as well." A wandless spell extinguished the fire under the cauldron. "It's not working though. Grandmere's curses are far too complicated for me"

"So it was grandmere who cursed Pansy. Why?"

"Charlie," he got the impression that she was frowning, "don't get involved. You need to keep your distance from her."

He found himself staring into her eyes. Unexpectedly clear for such stark black pupils, he thought he could read everything she felt. There was fear, worry, confusion. She cares, he thought startled. She really does care.

"I want to help you," he said surprising himself with how determined his voice sounded.

"Then stay out of it," she answered, her voice more confused than angry.   


"You're scared," he said gently pushing aside the glassware so that he was standing in front of her.   


Millicent sighed in frustration. "Don't be a foolish Gryffindor about this. Look at what happened to Pansy. She asked for a favour from grandmere, was a little bit rude and now she's blood cursed."

Charlie slowly moved closer, keeping his hands open and palms upwards, not wanting to spook her again: "At least tell me how you got involved with all of this?" He entreated.

The frustration was replaced with a look of puzzlement on Millicent's face: "As I told your family, I'm one of grandmere's tools. She's using me to execute her latest scheme, a scheme that involves Pansy."

Charlie cast a doubtful look at the cooling cauldron: "I doubt a tool would try to undo one of grandmere's blood curse. You've got a greater role in this."

She snorted. "This," waving her hand at the potion table "is just entertainment to her. She's laughing right now at my incompetence. If she actually thought I had a chance of succeeding… well, I don't know what she'd do but I doubt I'd be happy about it."

"So she knows what you are doing?"

"She knows everything about me. What I'm seeing, what I'm hearing, even what I'm thinking." She said bitterly. Millicent blinked, looking at him suspiciously: "I don't know why I told you any of that." She said abruptly.

He put his hand gently on her shoulder. She looked down at it. "Millicent, my family and I offered our friendship to you. Trust me when I say we'll be reliable friends to you. You can tell me these things."

She looked at him, her eyes wide and doubtful.   


He let go of her and took a deep breath. "You're under suspicion right now. They think you are the one who cursed Pansy. And they know that you somehow got a necklace of frozen dragon tears from her. It's not looking good "

"The frozen dragon tears were her token to grandmere" cried out Millicent. She shook her head, withdrawing from him. The shadows across the room started crawling towards her, slowly covering her. She seemed to shake herself.

"Thank you for the warning," she said in formal tones. "I understand it as a demonstration of your family's friendship towards me. Rest assured that grandmere will be pleased by your kindness."

"Millicent!" He said, reaching out to the darkness to touch her shoulder again. "Don't be like that. I'm not doing this out of some fear of grandmere."

She snorted. "Of course, Gryffindors don't feel fear-"

"We do feel fear." He interrupted, letting her go. "Don't make this about Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I'm just trying to help you."

"And how can you help me with all of this?"

"Now that you've told me what happened, I'll explain to Harry about grandmere's involvement. He'll find a way to get SIMO and MLE to ease up on you." Charlie answered. "But what is grandmere's scheme?"

"I don't know," she said unhelpfully. "I doubt if I'd be able to understand it even if I did."

He frowned: "I wish you could tell me if she means any harm. But from what I understand her ideas of harming and helping are dramatically different from ours."

She nodded: "So you do know what she's like. And still, you want to 'help' me?"

Charlie laughed ruefully: "Unfortunately, it's all I can do. Try to minimise the fallout from her actions on you."

"I'm sorry, I have hardly been gracious with this. I'm not used to this type of…" She paused, trying to find the word. "This type of kindness. Especially when I've caused so much trouble for your brothers."

"The ministry was looking for an excuse to go after them anyway." He said absently.

"You're not worried?" She asked as she walked to the table and picked up one of the ingredients. It was a small mortar full of petals from a beating heart blossom. They pulsed with a red glow in the dim light. She took out the pestle and started crushing them.   


"We've been in tighter spots," he said as he watched her work. "Are you adding those to the invigoration draught?"

She nodded "These are a hybrid between a muggle and magical plant. Grandmere's curses account for magical remedies but she didn't bother with muggle medicine because it's so ineffective on us. I want to use the blossoms to disguise the invigoration draught as a muggle medicine so it can be sneaked past her defences."

"That's a clever approach to take." He said admiringly.   


She laughed. "It would be clever if it worked. The blossoms keep mixing with the other ingredients of the invigoration draught and spoiling it."

"Too bad you can't somehow add it to the finished potion without it mixing in." He said.

She looked up at him startled. "Actually, I might be able to do that."

She quickly accio'd a box from across the room. She floated out a small pea size oval from it and let it levitate in front of her.   


"This must be one of your potion pills?" Charlie asked curiously.   


"It is," she nodded, her hands and magic busy as she set up another cauldron into which several ingredients floated in. Charlie could recognise distilled water and something that appeared to be sugar?

"I made hundreds of invigoration draught pills for the 'med-pack in your hand' kits. These are the slightly wonky ones we were going to throw away." She explained, tapping gently at the floating sphere. She then cast a small bluebell spark which dried the crushed petals in the mortar into a powder.

"So you are going to soak them in the beating hearts solution?"

"No," she shook her head. "That would risk having it react to the original potion. I'm going to make a candy coating infused with the petals for the pill instead.

Having added the beating heart powder to the cauldron she quickly heated the contents into a thick gooey paste which she quickly swirled over the floating invigoration draught pill. Several cooling charms later and the pill was covered in a shiny, pulsing red coating.   


"How will you test it?" He asked.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," she admitted, biting her lip. "I guess I'll have to first see if the draught is working."   


She looked around the potion floor and accio'd a fainting fancy from a skiving snackbox. She then looked at Charlie: "Will you be around for some time?" She asked.

"Oh no," he said instantly wary. "I like you, Millicent but I'm not letting you test out your potions on me."

She flushed a deep red. "N-no! I was going to test it on myself. But I need someone to administer the pill once I faint."

Charlie laughed: "That's fine then. What do you want me to do?"

She sat down on a tall stool near the wall. "I'll take the fancy and then you should give me the pill. Wait for two minutes and if I haven't regained consciousness then give me the other half of the fancy. If that doesn't work then a simple rennervate charm should do the trick."

He nodded, "And if that fails, St Mungo's?"

She nodded with a smile. "St Mungo's."

She bit into the fainting fancy and immediately slumped over, almost falling off the stool.

Charlie rushed over and put his arms around her to stop her from falling. Quickly accioing the pill, he slipped it in her mouth, anxiously watching to make sure she swallowed it.   


It was at this point he realized that her usual notice me not and other glamours had faded with her losing consciousness. Feeling a little like a voyeur, he let himself gaze onto her face.

Before, based on what little he had seen of her, he had been under the impression that she was pale and sallow, her face soft with barely defined features, except perhaps a beak of a nose.   


In reality, though she was exceptionally strong-featured. Her eyebrows were thick and dark, arched just enough to give her face a look of polite inquiry. She did have a large nose but it seemed balanced against her square jawline. She wasn't, by any standards, a beauty, but her face had a lot of character in it. Like Luna, there was something other-worldly about her, not quite human but strangely dignified in her alien looks. Charlie thought her to be one of the most striking people he had come across.

She was also one of the most tired. Her hair was closer to grey than the black he had thought it was. There were dark circles under her eyes and her lips were bitten and chapped. And her skin had the pale unhealthy tinge of someone who sees little daylight.

As he looked down at her she stirred slightly. Guiltily he jumped back, trying to put a little more distance between them, while still supporting her.

She winced before opening her eyes, "How long was I out?" She asked groggily.

He had, in all honesty, not kept track, to agog by her appearance to notice. "Umm... Not long I think. I didn't give you anything but the pill."

She moved out of his arms, the shadows partially covering her up. "Well, at least the invigoration draught works. I'll get Pansy to try it the next time I see her."

He frowned. "You need to be careful. I know you want to help her but the ministry is looking closely at your interactions with her."

She nodded, her face grim. "They are monitoring me so closely… I don't know how I will get this to her."

He squeezed her shoulder. "You'll think of something I'm sure. In the meanwhile let's make more of these pills." He rolled up his sleeves and got to work beside her.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, I've caught up with everything I've written so far so updates may be slower from here on.


End file.
